a 'free' day

Market day in Safranbolu provided all the colour and activity you'd expect.  The region is particularly known for saffron and apples, but at this time of year there was more commerce with apricots and watermelon and cherries.

There are tailors and cobblers and tinsmiths and woodworkers. A shop making knives and scythes made me think of the day before, when I had seen a man using one in a field, moving slowly and gracefully, arms back and forward, back and forward, like a dancer.  I haven't seen anyone use a scythe since my grandfather, remembered in my childhood.

But on a day you'd expect to purchase things, a few of us were lucky enough to receive things gratis.

First there was Phooko (pronounced Poco).  Being a man of colour, a rarity here, Phooko was easily marked as a tourist, a foreigner in this small town, someone who came here precisely to welcome a new grocery store. Or at least that is how it seemed when he passed by the carnival atmosphere that accompanies new businesses.  Brands stocked sent large bouquets of flowers, there are balloons and all sorts of food and drink handed out.  The recipient of a few items, including white candy floss, Phooko gamely stood for photos, no doubt destined for a wall of honour.

Then there was Tom.  Tom got the closest shave of his life by a young barber who had steady hands despite being watched and photgraphed by the rest of us.  A straight 'cut throat' razor was used and each part of Tom's face was carefully positioned.  In the end he almost looked like a model.  The shave actually cost 10 Lira, but Eric had volunteered payment for whoever wanted the experience, and Tom, as usual, was the first one to step up to the challenge.


Next on the lucky ladder was David, affectionally known as "our Marine escort".  Everywhere he goes, he gets noticed.  Here in Safranbolu he might have met his match. A cafe owner bet lunch he could beat David in an arm wrestle, saying he was the strongest man in the area.  It wasn't exactly a pushover, but let's just say David enjoyed his free lunch.

Even I caught a piece of luck.  In amongst some strange collections of tourist items (London phone box cash banks?  Eiffel towers?  Wooden Pinocchio marionettes?)  there were some local things.  I was looking at some silver jewellry that seem to follow a form I've noticed as being particularly Turkish.  It's quite ornately designed, with clear, green and red stones, but remains oddly dark.  I have seen it in all the markets, placed beside incredibly yellow gold pieces.  As I was looking the owner came out and handed me a blue pendant on a black cord, saying it is tourquoise and a gift.  I thanked him but said I am not able to buy any of his work, but he smiled and said it's okay, it's the end of the day and he had a good day and his work is also sold in Bursa and Istanbul.  I took it to mean he has saved his face for giving a gift to a useless prospect.

Eric, Walter, Pinar and myself walked up the hill as the sun was slowing edging downward. We stopped at a restaurant owned by some friends of hers.  We sat outside and saw the entire valley below, sharing cheese and drinks and bread.  A guitar player sat on the window sill of an upper storey, playing with his legs hanging down on the outside. At the end, out comes ice cream - a gift for us!

Sometimes the planets just align themselves well!