Reflections and Resolutions

31 December 2012
The time of year when we pause to look back on the year. Relish our triumphs, evaluate our disappointments, and plan for a fresh start. I kinda feel like I do this every day just on a smaller scale. :)

In the last week, I have been reminded countless times (ok, I can count them) that people have enjoyed my blog and are looking forward to the next one. Yeah, I've let posting on Facebook replace real writing. Sorry. I blame Facebook and you dear reader.

Facebook is instantaneous. It's magic. Those little icons in the upper left hand corner light up so fast to indicate a message, a "like", or a comment. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about (Ok, Andrea, you don't know :) but trust me, it's pretty cool.) Yes, I'm addicted to those. I love when I post a picture of any ordinary thing, and ding! Someone has seen it. It's like a silent conversation. Some sort of validation that let's me know, yeah, someone is actually curious about what I'm doing. I must admit though, my favorite is a comment or a message. Then it's really like a conversation from across the globe.

You dear reader are silent. I know you're there. I can see how many people view the postings. Yeah, bet you didn't know that, huh? Thank you for reading, but you're not Facebook. No magic. No zip. No ding. However, I like you and not just in the Facebook clicking kind of like you. I really like you.

I like that you supported me in this crazy adventure to teach overseas. You listened to my musings about Turkey. You watched documentaries with me about Turkey and Ataturk. You went out to dinner with me. You had drinks with me. (Man do I miss micro-brews and root beer martinis. Seriously. Delicious. Mad Cow in Greeley. Go if you haven't had one.) You were excited for my adventure but sad to see me go. You cried with me at the airport. You sent me emails and Skype messages. In the beginning. Now. We are complacent with each other. Me not blogging. You not commenting. It's sad because I really like you.

So in this time of reflection, I propose a revival in our relationship. A resolution if you will. I promise I'll blog about something every other week if you dear reader promise to talk to me. (Originally, I was thinking every week, but let's be honest.)You could send an email; you could message me on Facebook; you could even comment in the comment section below. Any message is a good message. I'm not picky.

It doesn't have to be long; it doesn't have to be insightful. Heck, you don't even have to use correct spelling or grammar. Just quit being a lurker and say something. Please? It really does mean a lot to me to continue my friendships back home. I think that is what I have learned the most on this adventure. No one really knows you like the people back home. The ex-pat community is small in Tarsus, and often it feels like they don't want to take the time to get to know people because someone is always moving.

It doesn't matter to me if you think what you're writing is boring. To me, it's a small glimpse into what is happening in your life that I'm missing out on by living in Turkey. Just like you get to travel through me, I need to know what's happening over there with you. Even if you just want to tell me about getting a great deal on some cereal because you had a double coupon, and it was on sale. Tell me. I miss you. All of you. And really, Facebook is cheating on the relationships I miss the most.

Here's to a new year, a new you and me, and a new relationship via Blogger.

Happy New Year!

Olive Oil

* This is the last post that was written on October. I forgot about it. I posted this before I posted the Resolution one, so this one didn't get many views. I think it got overlooked, so I'm posting it again. No, this does not count as part of the deal. I still owe you a post dear readers. ;0 
Enjoy!

Before I left the United States, I bought Lonely Planet’s guide to Turkey. I’ve always found Lonely Planet to be a good insider’s guide that allows you to act like a local yet still be a tourist. Their suggestions about events, attractions, and restaurants have always been worthy.

Lesley happened to be flipping through my copy and happened upon page 122. The highlighted blue box on this page reads “Slip-Sliding Away In Edirne.” She asked if I would be attending the slippery event. Probably not, as Edirne is in the extreme northwest region of Turkey near Thrace and Marmara – bordering Greece. Places I had not heard of nor have I explored since I’ve been here.

Yet, there was also a picture of this event within the Top 18 Experiences in Turkey-- Number 15: Kırkpınar Oil Wrestling. In late June/early July there is a festival in the city of Edirne where grown men and boys slather on olive oil and then wrestle each other for top honors. Honestly, it didn’t rank in my personal top ten.

However, last week (two months ago!) I was riding the bus headed to my tennis lesson (yes, I, too, see the discrepancy of me taking public transportation to tennis) when I noticed this poster.

Funny, not something that I would normally notice, but the picture is similar to that in my Lonely Planet guide. I quickly took a picture of the poster with my phone and asked my instructor to translate what I couldn’t figure out – where was this happening? and why was it being publicized in Tarsus? Just a quick geography lesson, Tarsus is in the southern part of Turkey – 30 minutes from the Mediterranean.

Turkish wrestling was coming to Tarsus. I had to go. While many of the foreign staff traveled during the Bayram holiday, I was here with two Canadians. I asked if either of the women wanted to go with me. Nope. Hmmm…apparently, they don’t value Lonely Planet’s suggestions as much as I do.  C’mon. This was Lonely Planet’s number 15! Of all the things to do in Turkey! Number 15, people! 15!

So, I rode my bike in search of the stadium. As I approached, it felt very roller derby-esque to me. It was similar in the way that there is definitely a subculture within roller derby. People in the stands were obvious fans, cheering on their favorite wrestler as he was introduced. The crowed was smaller than I imagined, but there was no lack of noise. People were there to watch their favorite oil clad wrestler.

Each wrestler had a warm-up ritual: some were out greeting fans, others were stretching, some were behind the scenes, and some were mucking it up with the refs. The crowd was well aware of the routine as well. Drums blared, musical was added, the national anthem was played, the mayor (at least I think it was the mayor or another governing figure) spoke, and the ceremony commenced.

All the wrestlers lined up and were introduced to varying degrees of applause. Each man stepped forward when called, and once they were in a line again, they crossed the soccer stadium in leaping jumps, waving with the opposite hand. I’m not doing a very good job of describing this part, but there is an exercise like this…kind of skipping and then getting more height by swinging your opposite hand. As they made their way across the field to the drummers, the ended the path by going to one knee - almost bowing.

Once to the other side the group of 20 or so separated; eight men gathered in the center; the others made their way to the opposite corner and waited. The eight men broke into four groups of two. And before I knew it, the wrestling began. Again, roller derby came to mind as parts seemed orchestrated, but once things got underway, it was obvious that the men were having difficulty. This was hard work. Pig wrestling came to mind. Oil. Squirming. Grunting. No squealing allowed.

Participants were slathered in olive oil. I mean slathered. Dripping off of them, running into their eyes, grass sticking to them. A mess. The men only wear leather pants – capri-like in style. Some have their names stitched into the pants. Additionally, I noticed they were wearing what looked like a knee brace of sorts, but it was just below the knee.My guess is that it was there to hold the bottom of the pant leg in place so competitors wouldn't be able to get an advantage of a loose article of clothing. 

As the matches continued simultaneously, referees monitored each pairing. Whistles were blown to indicate a man out of bounds; hand signals were used, and the winner’s hand was raised when a match was over.  One interesting observation is that competitors put their hands down the other’s pants. According to Lonely Planet, this is the best way to get a good grip. I’m not sure I want to know what is being gripped, but contestants who used this technique usually were successful in taking down their opponent.

I stayed for about an hour and found the event to be entertaining at least. Once I got home, I had to do a bit more research. The sport has been going on since the Ottoman Empire – that’s over 6 ½ centuries!  No wonder it’s Lonely Planet’s number 15. Not a bad way to spend some time in Tarsus.

Here are a few websites in case you’re planning your next vacation around oily men. www.kirkpinar.com 

 www.turkishwrestling.com

I was so enthralled that I took quite a few pictures. If you're interested, let me know, and I'll send you the link. ;)