Middle East

Whereas changes in skin color signaled my arrival in Anatolia, clothing became the measure of my transition into the Arab world. The free flowing hair of women in Izmir that had given way to hijabs in Konya now yielded to niqabs near Syria.

In Şanlıurfa, believed to be the biblical city of Ur, I inhaled a new, bittersweet air. In a candy shop, when I asked the owner if he spoke English, he said feebly “You… speak, I… understand.” After a lengthy pause, he said “I’m just kidding, yes I speak English.” He was about 50 years old, a civil engineer educated in Copenhagen - but there were no opportunities for that here. Tourists used to visit, but they stopped coming after conflict erupted between Turkey and Syria. I inquired about the enormous sunflower seeds on offer; they were imported from the US. The candies, trucked in from somewhere. "I'm just a reseller, this all comes from factories" he said with an air of melancholic yet droll resignation. In other words: "Fuck me, right?” 

Outside, a tense encounter with police eager to pick a fight - a good reminder that things can go pear shaped in an instant, and that my well-being so far has probably been more luck than anything else.

In Göbekli Tepe, the petrification of time.

In Mardin, imposing brick towers which soar high above the old city, basking in the dusky red twilight long after the lights have come on down below. Unwelcoming glares from a few - the first hint of distaste I have perceived after nearly a year on the road. I appreciated it. Do I not deserve at least a little derision for the sheer privilege of this trip?

In Midyat, Escheresque tessellation. 

Near the border, my first taste of Kurdish hospitality, cuisine, and apprehension from a man named Ahmet. I do not mean to imply that he was uneasy, for without hesitation he welcomed me to camp at his idyllic restaurant, and in gentle conversation shared with me the struggles of the Kurds. By apprehensive I mean both perspicacious and concerned, because one must be if they understand the situation.

I took some drone footage of his restaurant that I'm only sharing with him now, seven months later. I never forgot, buddy, I was just lazy!