|
On milestones dating back to the 3rd
century BC the measurement was "stadia" (185 m). Later the first Roman
milestones used a measurement called "milla passuum" (thousand steps).
During the Roman Empire, besides the distance information, the name of
the emperor who had the road built or maintained also had his name
carved on milestones. In order to increase the visibility of the
information, the carved letters and numbers were painted in red. During
the late Roman Empire, in order to honour and show loyalty to the
emperor, whether in fact he had anything to do with the road or not, the
emperors’ names were carved on the stones, especially those stones
placed at important crossroads since these were often points where
emperors and governors were welcomed or bid farewell by members of the
city councils. It became more important as to where the milestone should
be placed for goodwill rather than for distance information. Every time a new
emperor was declared, milestones were ordered changed. Since the cities
had to bear the expense, milestones were often turned to use a side not
yet carved.
It was most kind of Erdal to meet us and one of the
other couples at the lower gate of Ephesus. He encouraged us to continue
our day with a visit to the small village of Sirince. We were eager. Since the other couple preferred to return to the hotel Erdal dropped
them off there and then the three of us drove up into the countryside
past fields of young grape leaves on thick gnarled vines and olive trees
whose gray-green leaves feathered out from dark spread-limbed tree
trunks.
|
 |
 |
Erdal and Nazimi told us they were investing money into olive
groves. "It is a lot of work to gather the olives ," Erdal said driving
along the narrow winding road, "but we make it a family day.
Grandparents, parents, children, aunts and uncles, cousins; we all go
out and pick together. It can be a lot of work but a lot of fun."
It was evident when we arrived in the village that we
were not the only ones there. Tourists were milling around the streets,
stores and restaurants. Erdal said he would drop us off and pick us up
later. He thought some other guests would like a lift up and could pick
us up at the time he dropped them off. We arranged a time. He then
pointed the way up the hill to a church. "Behind that church is an
eating place I think you will like or," he hesitated not knowing if we
had had our fill of walking today, "there is this restaurant." He
pointed to one within view. We thanked him and were on our own. Just the
way we like it.
We made our way passed the souvenir and
trinket stands, the clothing stores and coffee shops and headed
up the steep alleyways where tourists dwindled to a trickle and
locals were seen in a more natural setting going about their
day.
|
|
Farther up a goat nibbled
on the edge of a rock retaining wall and a lady below the wall was
pulling hot pans of bread from an outdoor, wood fuelled brick oven. We
watched as she eased the fresh bread by callused hands from the hot pans
and put the bread out on clean clothes to cool. There wasn’t any
assembly line here. Each pan was a different size, some rectangle, some
round but each had just the right amount of dough. We watched in
fascination as she took one loaf out of a large round pan. With fingers
momentarily pulling back from the hot surface, bit by bit she broke the
steaming circle open and then with determination she grasped it with
both hands and ripped off a large triangle. Then she did the unexpected.
She came over to the wall on which we were perched and handed up the
chunk to Sherrie.
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
A mother and young son had joined the
audience. With many thanks and huge smiles, we bowed to the
lady, then not as skilfully, broke the piece again to share with
mother and son. Not expecting anything but our gratitude she
returned to her loaves turning once to show her own pleasure in
giving with a smile which beamed despite the missing front
teeth. We broke the remainder of the bread between us and
continued up the hill passed ladies selling rugs and table
clothes. They pointed out which ones were homemade and which
were imported. They also pointed us in the direction of the
church.
The church was old and appeared to no longer
be in use. Some old, very worn frescos in niches are now
protected behind glass.
|
|
It had a dirt floor and basic wooden tables
and chairs. On the far side the eating areas had been raised, in
stages, with each holding sofas on three sides around a low
central table. Children played at one of the tables. In the main
part of the "room", which was wide open to fresh air and valley
views on two sides, all but one of the tables were covered with
cloths. Three ladies and a child sat at the uncovered table
which was closest to the kitchen.
|
|
The main
"kitchen" was a three sided room. On one side stood a tall make-shift
counter-height table and some open shelving. On the back wall was an old
soot stained fireplace not currently being used. Blocking a door way was
a tall narrow cupboard, the kind once used as food larders. On the third
wall was another fireplace which was being stoked with wood branches by
a lady in a long skirt, blouse with sleeves to the elbows and a head
scarf leaning over a crude round wooden table whose legs were no more
than 25 cm high.
|
|
 |
 |
|
After stoking she settled back down on a cushion behind
the round table with the short legs. It was covered with flour and about
a dozen small mounds of soft dough. Without pomp or ceremony she took
one of the soft balls of dough and as she had done hundreds ... no
thousands ... of times before she rolled out the dough to a wide, thin
white disc using a long dowel no bigger around than one might find
between the legs of a child’s stool.
As orders came to her she would
layer upon the disc fixings from plastic wash pans which sat in a semi
circle to her right. For our order she put spinach and feta in one and
eggplant in the other. She folded the ladened disc in half, flipped it
over the narrow dowel and with a twist of her body, placed the half
circle of dough on a round flat pan suspended over the open fire.
|
|
 |
| A
man
came by and asked us what we would like to drink. He suggested some
homemade wine. We agreed. How smart was that? The wine was so smooth and
so fruity. A real treat. As were the .... well ... when Erdal translated
he said "pancakes" but don’t be mistaken they were not anything like a
North American pancake and oh so much tastier. Perhaps a crepe would be
closer but still not right. We found out later they are called "gozleme".
We concluded that the coverless table was for the
owners. We gave names to the people sitting there.
|
 |
 |
|
First on our right was Little
Mama. Did she start all this? She was a little bit of a thing. Even
though she sat near the edge of her chair only her toes touched the
ground. She wore the typical Muslim fashion - long skirt, long sleeve
blouse over which hung a long homemade wool sweater-vest and a scarf
around her head. We did not hear her speak. She sat eating olives and
drinking tea, first stirring in a good amount of sugar. The lady with
her back to us, we named Big Mama. She was about three times the size of
Little Mama and also dressed in a long skirt and long knitted vest over
a shirt and a head scarf wrapped hat-style on her head. No doubt she was
queen of this miniature empire perched as it was upon the hill. People
spoke with her from other tables. Locals came in and greeted her. One
twenty-something man came in and ceremoniously lifted her right hand and
touched it to his chin and then his forehead. Staff scurried if she
wanted something. Yes, she was definitely the queen ... a well liked
queen. Was the younger lady – Recent Mama – with child the daughter and
successor to the throne?
|
 |
 |
 |
The food was delicious. The atmosphere unmatchable. As
the place filled up, the children who had been playing at a table on one
of the "stages" continued to play while the sofas around them filled
with people and happy conversation ensued.
We looked out into the valley and wondered how tourism
had affected this village. Was it a good thing? More money to spend
perhaps. But was that better? We couldn’t complain, money and an
affluent society had allowed us the blessing of coming here to share the
experience of their village and themselves. Little Mama slowly, step by
step, made her way from the table, past the cook and the wash basins of
ingredients and perched herself on a small chair next to the tall food
cupboard that blocked the door. It was our time to go as well. We knew
this would be a travel memory we would cherish for a very long time.
|
|
Erdal indeed dropped off another couple and the three
of us returned to the hotel. Erdal told us that Nazmi was going to give
a carpet demonstration to some of the guests and would we like to join
them. "Certainly," we said, knowing it was a carpet sales pitch thinly
disguised. We found the presentation excellent, informative and to their
credit not high pressured in the least.
|
|
It was our last night in Turkey. We went to the
rooftop terrace to enjoy a drink and our last light Turkish dinner. We
were having a lovely conversation with two couples from Edmonton, who
had come to enjoy the atmosphere even though they were unable to secure
a room at the hotel, and a couple from Victoria (who know a couple we
know), when to our joy, the couple from Edinburgh, whom we had met at the
Venus Hotel in Pamukkale, came through the door. "Thought we might find
you here," they said and joined us. After dinner another surprise
arrived. Karyn and Ibrahim entered. It was like old home week with lots
of hugs and European cheek kissing. Karyn has to go to Samos (Greek
island) every three months to renew her Turkish visitor’s visa. She does
some shopping there, reads and returns on the next ferry. She and
Ibrahim use these times as mini holidays from the hotel business.
|
 |
 |
|
Sharing wine and laughter with new friends is a
wonderful way to say goodbye to a fascinating beginning to our Eastern
European Experience.
|
|
