2nd of May, 2022.
I am standing in front of a small / family restaurant. A car stops by some people and kids come around. A beautiful lady, wearing a veil, invites me to come and eat. All by gestures. I accept!
The restaurant belongs to her husband’s parents, and they are here as well. They are celebrating the first day / meal after Ramadam. Her name is Ceylan and her husband Ercan. They have two boys, Saban and Ismail, and also a young girl, Nehin. We all sit at the table to have some soup with meat and chickpeas. Unfortunately, for the first time in my trips, I cannot eat the soup. The sour taste is too strong! I am guessing they make their own ayran and used for the soup. I fell so ashamed for being invited and not eat. I try but I feel like I will throw up if I do. So I tell them I am vegetarian and because of that I cannot eat the soup. They are very sweet and understanding. And at least none of the kids eat much of the soup too, so I feel a bit less bad. Ercan then brings me some tomatoes, cucumbers and a boiled egg. That I eat. How sweet!
We take some photo together the husband shows me his photograph, on the wall, in the top of the entrance door, from when he was a hustler. And he won many medals!
They are going into Nizip and offer to take me there. I am really happy to have met this family.
I am most of the time talking through translate with Ismail. He is a very special boy and I believe (and hope!) he will grow up to be one of those men in the minority who are good. He is so clever and with a good heart. They are going to Nizip in a very old car but I love it! Ismail writes me apologizing for the old car, saying that he hopes I don’t mind. When I tell him I love old cars, he says that I am different of other people, that I am special. Owm!
Ceylan is also a smart woman and ask me if I would rather to be dropped in the centre of Nizip or before the town. They drop me off in a crossroad just before the entrance.
A truck stops. I am hoping it is not for me and trying to ignore it, see if he goes away, but he doesn’t. But it happen that when I come to talk with the guy, he actually seems like a really nice guy and he is going to Urfa, so I get in. Mustafah is a nice man and we try to talk a little bit. He stops by in a gas station to get some fuel and buy me a Fanta and some cookies.
When he is about to drop me off in the direction of Gobekli Tepe, he calls his sister, who can speak English, and we talk a bit.
I don’t know the name of the next man who picks me up but he drives me all the way to Gobekli Tepe. Finally!
There is a huge queue of cars but the place is not even open yet. I think it is some holidays or something. So we park the car a while before the entrance and have to walk. The man insists on coming with me. We talk with many different people but nobody is whiling to help me to visit the monument for free. I even have my backpack with me because I though that could help. We go from the visitor centre to the gates and talk with more people, security, and more people, but it seems they all are taking as a joke. Turkish people may be very hospitable and friendly when it comes to welcome you to their country and homes but when it comes to pay for something things turn a bit different.
I believe that it also has something to do with the man with me. Not only his presence but also his negativity. Since the beginning he was saying (and keep repeating) that they wouldn’t let me in without a ticket and bla bla bla. I hate this kind of people! Even though he offered to pay for my ticket many times and I refused, I dislike the fact that he was so negative.
He lives in Urfa, so he drives me all the way back and drop me off outside town, in direction to Mount Nemrut, but not before buying us some ice cream.
I walk for a while until I can find a spot where I can actually hitchhike. I wait for quite a while until somebody finally decide to help me out. It is a couple with their daughter and the wife is called Kevser Gocer. They are not going so far, only to a town called Bosova, but at least I get into another road in another direction, the direction to Mount Nemrut. They are a very lovely family and drop me off in a kind of bus stop in the middle of the road.
Bozan and his very smart son are the next ones to pick me up. They are going to Adiyaman. We try to talk a little bit but the son is too shy to practice his English. It is getting late and at some point, Bozan offers for me to come and sleep in his house. But stupid as I am, I refuse at first (don’t ask me why) and then later on he does not offer again. And I don’t have the face to ask him again neither. So he drops me off in front of a park, not too far from the road which leads to Mount Nemrut.
I am sure I should not camp in the park so I start to walk around, trying to find some house where I can feel confident and courageous enough to ask the family if they allow me to camp in their garden.
