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February 2, 2005
Travel Story #3
"Sweet! I thought Turkish Toilets where those porcelain holes in the floor."
"They are."
"This one's normal."
"They're just called Turkish toilets, I don't think the Turks use them anymore."
"Maybe they just put in a normal one 'cuz it's a hotel."
I had climbed over the bed my dad claimed as his to get into the surprisingly normal looking bathroom. The beds, though smaller than the average auxiliary cot begrudingly provided by other hotels, took up so much of the room that the bathroom door could not open all the way and I had to climb over the bed to get through the partially open door. After a quick look around the bathroom I sat down on the toilet. "Woah!"
"What was that?"
I shot up from the toilet and looked into the bowl. "There's a little pipe sticking out of the back of the bowl. It poked me in the ass!"
"What are you talking about?"
"A pipe - kind of a tube - in the bowl. It poked me in the ass." I gave the bowl a closer look. The tube was aluminum. It started in the back of the bowl -- inside -- and was bent up, over the side of the bowl, underneath the seat. From there it went back to the water pipe in the wall. There was a little knob there. I turned it and water squirted out of the pipe. The water squirted out of the toilet and hit the wall on the other side of the bathroom.
"I know what it is. My friend told me about these things. He saw them when he was in Bosnia. He told me they were built into the toilet though."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"It's to wash your ass." After a trip to Bosnia a friend of mine told me about the strange toilets he saw. Thyy had two handles. One to flush, one to squirt water directly at your sphincter to help you clean it --sort of a two in one bidet/toilet combo.
"What is?"
"The pipe."
"Let me see it."
"Hold on. Let me finish in here. It'll still be here when I'm done." I reached behind the toilet and moved the pipe around so it wouldn't poke me directly in the ass and sat back down.
When I was finished I was curious. I wanted to try out the tube. My friend told me that no matter where you sat it always got you directly in the ass. He was amazed. I got myself mentally prepared for a cold stream of water on the ass, reached back and turned the knob.
"Aahhhh!"
"What the hell is going on in there?"
"It squirted me in the balls!"
"What the hell are you doing?"
My playing with the tube must have screwed with its calibration. Instead of squirting me directly in the ass, something I was prepared for, it squirted me in the testicles with a hard, cold stream of water. I hurried out of the bathroom, opening the door too wide and slamming it into the bed.
"What the hell are you doing in there?"
"Don't use that ball-squirting pipe."
"What are you talking about?"
"Look at the pipe in the back of the bowl. Just don't use it."
He sat up in the bed and craned his neck to see the toilet less than two steps from his bed. "You used that?"
"I just wanted to see --"
"I'd never use that thing."
Reinvigorated by the shock I decided to go for a walk to see the city. I had swiped a map from the car rental/hotel calling place and was ready to go. "Let's go see the city."
"What? It's dark?"
"Come on. Let's go. I have a map."
"I'm an old man, let me rest."
"Well then I'm going. See you later."
"Ok. Fine. Give me a second."
We left the hotel that occupied the upper floors of a building also housing a plus size store catering to Russian women and walked down the street. I tried to find out where we were on the map. "We cam from that way, so the city must be this way. But this street looks so big on the map. There's not a single car on the road and it's only 9."
"I think that's it." He grabbed the map and looked. As he released he noticed another store with a front window in Russian. "Why is everything in Russian down here?"
"Maybe they vacation down here."
"Maybe they buy all the cheap stuff down here. We've got China, they've got --"
"Watch out!" There was an open hole in the sidewalk. It was a stairway down to a restaurant in the basement of a building. The stairway had no railing around it, so anyone not paying attention could just fall in. They seemed to be everywhere. The unsafe aspect of the stairway hit me. My dad paid more attention to the food.
"Disgusting."
"What?"
"They keep that food right inside the door. All the shit from the street goes in the door and lands in that little buffet thing they keep next to the door."
"Hey. I'm kind of hungry."
"There's no way I'm eating that shit. I bet its just dirt from the street with some sauce."
We continued down the street until we got to a newsstand. "Look! Porno."
"Ok, dad."
"No. I didn't think they had porno here, and here it is right on the street. And it looks pretty raunchy too."
"Hey. I bet they have beer too. Let's get some."
We walked down the street looking for some place that might sell beer, but everything was closed. It was late in the evening after most of the stores were closed. We were apparently staying in the russian garment buying district and their were no convenience stores. "Let's go down this street. It looks like tehre's a big square down this way."
We turned down the street and saw it was filled with piles of trash. Huge piles. Piles about four feet high and 8 feet across. "See. i told you this was a filthy country."
"It can't be like this all the time."
"Sure, it can. It's a filthy country."
We walked past a sewing shop. Several women sat at sewing machines making things out of leather.
"Look. This sweat shop is still working. They're pumping out jackets or something."
"I bet they're going to sell them to the Russians tomorrow."
Just then a man popped out of the garbage pile outside the sewing shop. He was fully immersed in trash searching for scraps of leather. "What is he going to do with those scraps of leather? They're like 2 inches long."
"I have no idea. -- Where are you taking me?"
"To get a beer. Look. I bet that place has beer."
We went into the store and I grabbed a beer. There were no prices marked and I picked a half liter bottle so I held out a five million lira bill figuring it should cover it. The guy behind the counter looked at me and shook his head. He motioned for another bill. I added a 2 million lira bill. 7 million should cover it. He shook his head again and motioned to my hand. More? Damn, beer is expensive here. I held out my handful of change intending for him to take more.
He grabbed a 1 million coin and handed me some change. I stood there with my hand and the other 7 million outstretched. He didn't take it. Wow. Less than 50 cents for a half liter bottle of beer? Awesome. I'm moving to Turkey!
"Hey, dad. They have beer in there. It's only like 50 cents a half liter."
"I don't want any."
"Why not?"
"I think they frown on drinking here. I don't want to get locked up."
"Ok, well let me know if you see any cops then."
"Fine. -- Where to now?"
"I think there should be a big square just around this corner."
We walked another block and rounded the corner. It opened up to a square filled with people. The square was lined with restaurants. Each restuarant packed - every table filled. Lights flooded the square making it seem brighter than daytime, musicians played at every other table. "Wow!"
"How did you find this place?"
"I don't know. It was just a circle on the map."
"This is crazy."
The sound was intense. The Exotic sounding instruments each blaring a different tune, people at the tables drunkenly clapping along. The lights bright, making the square light while everything else was pitch black. People hangin out of second story balconies singing. The smell of strange food and tobacco being smoked from narghiles. "Let's eat here."
"No way. It's too loud. Too busy. Let's just look around."
We walked through the square in wonder. I want to move to Turkey. This would be so cool. "Do you think we could get some chilled monkey brains like in Indiana Jones?"
"What?"
"Chilled monkey brains."
"I don't know what they eat here."
We talked as we walked. Then we were accosted by one of the restaurant employees. "Come to eat here, my friend."
"No, thanks."
"Yes, my friend, I save a special table for you."
Yeah, right. He saved a special table for us. Sure.
Then another guy, from the neighboring restaurant made his pitch. "No, my friend. You eat here."
The two fought with each other in a friendly way. They insulted each other to try to get our business. More specifically, they insulted each other's manliness to try to get our business.
"No. You won't like his place. He is big gay."
"He is bigger gay."
"He -- This is biggest gay, here."
We walked on.
We walked through a block of restaurants. When we got the the other side I turned to my dad, "Where do you want to eat?"
"Not there. It's too loud."
"Fine. Let's keep walking. I think the Mediterranean is right over there."
"Wait. Let me take a picture."
He took a couple pictures of the restaurants, but stopped when several boys stepped in front of him. They were trying to sell roses. We shook our heads, "no." They pointed to his camera; they wanted their picture taken. My dad took their picture and they started motioning to him.
"Can you believe these little shits? They're trying to get me to pay them."
"I think they just want to see the picture."
"They're asking for money. Fuck them. I'm deleting it."
"They're just asking to see it."
He showed them the picture -- three boys crowded together with roses seperating their faces. They cheered and laughed. They pointed and laughed at each other as they ran down the street and back to work.
We crossed the street to a fish market. It was just closing up and the cats were coming out to eat all the remnants. Hundreds of cats. There were cats all around.
"This place looks closed. We can't see the water, let's go and come back tomorrow."
"How will we find it again?"
"I have a map. We only made like 2 turns."
Just then another restaurant guy popped out of a seaside reastaurant. He tried to get us to come into this restaurant. We declined claiming we had just eaten a few blocks back. He pulled out a business card and wrote his name on the back. He said that we, as his friends would be able to come back tomorrow, show that card and get the best seat in the house. Plus a free bottle of Raki.
"What's Raki?"
"The drink of Turkey. You come back tomorrow and you get a free bottle. Just for you, my friends."
We walked along the stinky fish market for a few minutes, watching the cats devour the left over seafood, before me decided to head back. "Let's eat in one of those restaurants in that crazy part."
"Maybe one on a side street. It'll be cheaper and less noisy."
We went back to the square, each restaurant sent someone out to bring us in. Each offered a free bottle of Raki this time around. They must have seen that we'd already been offered such a deal. We kept going.
"Look, this one looks OK. And it's quiet"
We went in and ordered Raki to start. They brought out a menu and some slices of bread that looked to be the leftovers from others' bread baskets. We poured over the menu for a minute or two settling on the strangest seafood we could get -- and another bottle of Raki.
As our dinner wound down and we both found ourselves rather tipsy I ordered some coffee. We talked for a second as I drank. "I think they watered this stuff down. Did you notice how they never bring you a sealed bottle? I think they water it down."
"When you put water in it it turns white. They can't water it down."
He picked up the bill and looked agitated. "Look at this. They're fucking ripping us off. 37 million?"
"Dad. That's like 18 dollars."
"No. It's in the millions. I think its like 80 dollars."
"No. A dollar is about 2 000 000 Lira."
"What the fuck? Are you drunk?"
"No. It's about 2 million Lira. Are you drunk?"
"I don't get this damn money. It's got so many damn zeros."
We walked back to our hotel where I tried, in vain all night, to sleep. I shouldn't have had that coffee. Damn, it was strong. Finally I got a moment of sleep in the early morning. As soon as I nodded off, however, I was woken by the call to prayer from one of several minarets.
Posted by calculatoronfire at February 2, 2005 1:25 PM
Comments
when was this man? like last week. crazy you did all that stuff with yer dad. these stories are cool. i never go anywhere because of my nerves.
Posted by: carl at February 3, 2005 3:23 PM
This was a while ago. Last fall.
My dad cuts loose once in a while...as long as he can still drink 2 liters of hot tea a day he's up for whatever.
Posted by: brian at February 3, 2005 3:30 PM
Hi, Your Site is Very Informative, Thanks,
Posted by: NpoSc at August 1, 2008 11:58 PM