Our Trip to Machu Picchu

Since my family's visit to Buenos Aires in May, we have been planing our next trip. I have been dreaming about a trip to Peru, especially to Cusco,  since I was a little girl and reading Eric von Daniken books, thinking about whether or not "Gods" helped some civilizations in tecnological advances and creating incredible structures and cities. Mom and my brother shared this dream, my aunt Jackie and her husband Traver, two natural born globe trotters confirmed their presence, so did mom's friend Sadife and her cousin, two turkish women I admire a lot.  I took care of the reservations and accommodations (including the Inca Trail to climb to Machu Picchu) for all of us to spend November in Peru, and Bolivia!




PART I: MEETING IN LIMA


It is a hassle organizing a trip when participants live almost in all 4 corners of the world. Mom flew to Miami to meet up with Feyzi to fly to Cuzco directly from there, where as Jackie and Traver traveled directly from Honolulu to Lima (almost 36 hours) and we met up with Sadife and Aysegul in Bs As, showed them around for a day or two. Our party arrived in Lima--while riding from the airport to San Isidro I realized that this was one of the ugliest cities in Latin America in terms of urbanization--and spend a day in a half with J&T,  sightseeing, pisco drinking and hunting for the best ceviche in town!





I had a recommendation from a Peruvian friend: she told us to go to Rosa Nautica (picture above) restaurant in Miraflores. We had a 4 hour lunch there, and it was fabulous! It reminded me of a place in California or something, and we tried probably every bichito and fish from the pacific in ceviche form with bottles of cold Chilean sauvignon blanc. We could not see too much of the city afterwards, as we had to lay down for long naps in order to function the following day, at 2800 meters in Cuzco.


PART II: CUZCO, the City of Gods


Excitement was building up so much that I could not sleep well.  We took a van from the posada to the Lima airport--mom and brother arrived earlier that day and were waiting for us at the airport to catch their connection/our flight to Cuzco--Approximately 2 hours later we were in Cuzco, welcomed by our hosts, the agency I booked for the inca trail and other excursions in Cuzco. Tanya, who I corresponded for months, was much younger than I thought. We have taken our sorochi pills (for altitude sickness) so except Sadife, none of us felt sick or dizzy, but climbing up 8 steps with backpacks when we arrived to our tiny posada was tough. I have been training for this for 3 months, on a treadmill and quit smoking, still I felt the lack of oxygene.


The posada was nicely located but it was dodgy (!):  Rooms, bathrooms, even the stairs looked as if they were going to collapse on us.  But the view of the incredible city from our rooms worth the risk.  Cuzco, or Qusqu in quechua language is the capital of the Inca Empire and is located near the Urubamba (sacred valley) in southeastern Peru, on Andes mountain, approx 3000 meters above the sea level.  


A couple of important details about the city:  Cusco was the capital of one of the most important civilizations in the human history and according to Inca legends, the city was planned to be shaped like a puma. 

The city had two main sectors,  the urin and hanan, which were also divided to four provinces: Chinchasuyu (NW), Antisuyu (NE), Qontisuyu (SW) and Collasuyu (SE).  And of course a road led from each of these quarters to the corresponding quarter of the empire. Each local leader was required to build a house in the city and live part of the year in Cusco, but only in the quarter of Cusco that corresponded to the quarter of the empire in which he had territory. Empire had approximately 20 thousand kms of roads, connecting cities to each other, capital to the other provinces. 

One of the legends I have read about the city told  that Cusco was built by Sapa Inca Pachacuti, the man who transformed the Kingdom of Cusco from a sleepy city-state into the vast empire of Tahuantinsuyu. The city fell to the sphere of Huáscar in the division of the empire after the death of Huayna Capac in 1527. It was captured by the generals of Atahualpa in April 1532 in the Battle of Quipaipan, and nineteen months later by the Spaniards. 

As no one felt sick or dizzy, we decided to take a walk around town; the architecture left from Incans still holds to this day, and is mind-blowing.  It was great to have mom with us, the architect, who could not close her mouth from awe, and telling us how innovative her Incan peers were making such durable yet beautiful constructions 500 years ago! I could walk for hours in the tiny streets of this town but we were all too hungry so we sat down at a local eatery and had more ceviche, quinoa and lama meat!  

After lunch--without Pisco Sour this time-- and later took a long nap. Sadife was still suffering from the altitude, but assured us she was getting better.  The next day was a full day of excursions around Cuzco: it almost felt movie like as I walked on Inca ruins: one looked a lot like an airport, or an arena for celebrations.

PART III: INCA TRAIL

PART IV: MACHU PICCHU

PART V: TITICACA AND OTHER BOLIVIAN MARVELS

PART VI: LOST IN SAN PEDRO, FOUND IN SALTA "LA LINDA"

Long time, No see

I just realized that I have not written a word in 3 months. At least to this page. I have been incredibly busy though: a new love, a new book, a new neighborhood. I decided to live first and then write about them, due to the fact that sometimes I have written about not-so-important people or events, then I wanted to delete those entries but could not do that either because they were memories at the end. They were part of my life and at the time they meant something.

In retrospective last three months were very productive. I worked very hard for CNN: many disasters took place in the continent, which unfortunately contributed to my pityful salary (I calculated that if I never studied and became a stripper I would be way better off than now!). I finished editing most of this blog and wrote a proposal in order to get published (cross your fingers) in the U.S.

There is something I have done that even I cannot believe I have done: I moved in with Sedat, my new boyfriend, to a gorgeous penthouse in the middle of the city of Buenos Aires. I would never do such thing before knowing a person---ok, I may have been reckless in the past with other bfriends, but moving in and signing a rental are huge deals to me as well--but he seemed that he would be a great housemate and a friend, even if our relationship will not work, I am sure none of us would regret the companionship.

After a recent trip to Istanbul once again, I have changed jobs: I transffered to a different network, the best news channel in my homeland,NTVMSNBC, and came back to Buenos Aires this week. I am very excited about my new job, and the new trips that are planned before the end of the year.

Autumn is gone, here comes the Spring (only in Costanera Sur)

It is autumn again in Buenos Aires. Yet it almost feels like printemps. I felt like leaving this city as soon as I could and go straight to summer in Turkey but a day before my scheduled flight I did something crazy, and postponed it to two months from now. I will be starting another autumn this year, in Istanbul but I am not even thinking about that right now. I am enjoying this, whatever that I am doing right now, here in Buenos Aires.

I started to know where I am and where to go, how to get there, what bus to take, which side of the tracks to wait for the subte (Buenos Aires copies the Brits on this, although they never agreed on the Falklands!), where to eat and where to have an amazing sunny autumn day: Costanera Sur.

After brunch with my new roommates (I am not sure if we qualify as roommates, I started to visit one of these guys, an old friend of mine since last week and then moved in with him a week later because it felt right for some unexplicable reason!) I suggested that we catch the day and take a walk on the biggest natural park in the city. It is amazing that seconds away from this city’s famous downtown lies a natural reserve, on the shore of the River Plate.

We passed by the avenues where big trucks carrying whatever comes and leaves this town through the port, reached the modern condominiums of the Puerto Madero, the cozy yacht club and finally the construction sites for new condos that are being build in this very yuppie ‘hood and walked through the chorizo cars and entered the park. Suddenly the sound of the city disappeared and came silence, if one could avoid my friend’s friend constant idiotic comments about anything. I wished we did not invite him, but I guess it would be really rude to do that.

We had mate, music, a joint and warm winter sun. My friend told us that he had a special spot inside where we can sit and enjoy the sun by the river. We followed him and I kept wishing the other one would take off to do something else and leave us alone, so I could enjoy the silence and the fresh air without a side of unnecessary chitchat. We walked for approximately 4 km into the deeper part of the reserve and arrived where he suggested. It was indeed a nice spot, as my friend seems so far that he is a man of certain taste. We could see the entry to the port, the fisherman’s bridge, and the rocky shore that opens to the widest river of South America. My sunglasses made the usually brownish waters blue, and when I closed my eyes all I heard was the sound of the waves—by that time I told the other one to shut up.

When we turned our heads we could also see the downtown lying after miles of vegetation. It looked almost absurd to my eyes but I appreciated this sanctuary once again. I decided to inhale as much as clean air and river smell before going back to what I can describe as the mixture of exhaust and cement, with a side of dog shit. Depending on the neighborhood, this mixture includes perfume, parillada, or bakery smells as well. I like the mixture to be honest with you, but every once in a while it is great to smell the air, nothing else.

We spend the next 3 or more hours there, drinking mate, listening to our music (we each had our ipods) and enjoying our afternoon. It was magical. I never enjoyed this part of town before, for those little details why one needs a partner in crime afterall!

Letter from Argentina*

10 gün önce, 3 haziran Pazar günü diğer yarımkürenin en güzel başkenti hüzünlüydü bu Türk için. Bir yanda beni ziyarete gelen sevgili aileme güle güle demenin zorluğu, bir yanda ise sabahın erken saaatlerinde başlamış olan yerel seçimlerinin ne sonuçlar doğracağı beni ister istemez etklemişti. Daha da önemlisi, bu seçimlerin Kasım ayındaki genel seçime olan etkisi ne olacaktı? Her ne kadar bu şehirde ikamet etmekte bulunsam da onların çilesi içimde bana kendi çilemi hatırlatıyordu belki de. Temmuz sonunda bende aynı durumda olacaktım bir sandık başında İstanbul’da.

Arjantin Türkiye’den çok uzaklarda olmasına rağmen son 50 yıllık tarihinde bizimle bir çok benzerlik taşımakta. Askeri darbeler, neo-liberal polikların uygulanış biçimleri, yolsuzluk, ekonomik krizler, binbir doğal kaynakla ve verimli topraklarına rağmen işsizlik ve hatta açlık çeken bir halk. Ve tabii aynı amnezya: halk çok kısa sürede kendi tarihini unutacak hale getirilmiş, belki de kendi suçumuz bu kimsenin değil. Neyse, bu yazı Türkiye ile ilgili degil, merak etmeyin. Amaç size burada olup biteni aktarmak sadece.

Bundan 4 sene önce, 25 Mayıs 2003’de son dakikada Başkan seçilen Nestor Kirshner bir kaç ay sonra görevini ya kendisine, ya karısına, ya da başka bir adaya devredecek. Ve eğer görevinin sonuna kadar bir değişiklik olmazsa son 24 yıllık demokrasilerinde dönemini bitirebilen ilk Başkan olma ünvanını da alacak. Bununla da kalmıyor, son 80 yılda dönemini tamamlayan üçüncü başkan oluyor (efsanevi Juan Peron 1946-1952 ve Carlos Menem, ki iki kere başarmış 1989-1999).

Arjantinde ışıldayan politik stabilite ne yazık ki Kirshner’in popülaritesini açıklyacak durumda değil. 2002 yılında Arjantinliler ülkelerini yerle birr eden kriz yüzünden ekonomik açıdan çöktüğünde başa geçen (10 günde 5 Başkan değiştirdikten sonra) Krishner, Arjantin’in demokratik tarihindeki en düşük oyla bu pozisyona geldi (%22). Kimse onun kim olduğunu bile bilmiyordu. Patagonia’ya ev sahipliği yapan (Glacier Perito Moreno ve diğer turistik ekolojik tesislerin bulunduğu) Santa Cruz eyaletinden gelen Kirshner’e konulan lakap pinguino (penguen) olmuştu hatta. Ama bu penguen sanıldığından akıllı idi. Krizden tam önce Santa Cruz eyaltinin tüm servetini ulusal bankadan çekip bir İsviçre bankasına yatıracak kadar!

Kamuoyu ona bir kaç hafta vermişti o günlerde. Arjantin 2003 yılında idi o zaman. Politik hayat diğer Latin Amerika ülkelerinde olduğu gibi burada da zor görülüyordu tarih boyunca. Ama Arjantinliler kendi yakın tarihlerinin derinliklerine dalıp kimin ne kadar süre Başkan kaldığını araştırmıyorlardı.




Kirshner ise kendi tarihini iyi biliyor olacak ki başarının kolay gelip gittiği bu dünyada adımlarını sağlam bastı göreve geldiğinden beri. Göreve getirilidiği Pazar günü komşu ülklerin Başkanları (Chavez. Lula ve Küba’nın efsanevi lideri Fidel Castro bile oradaydı) ile kucaklaştı ve yeni bir Latin Amerika ittifakının parçası olduğunu gösterdi. Ertesi gün ise Entre Rios eyaletine uçtu ve Başkan olarak ilk işini bşr kaç mşlyon peso ödeyerek uzun zamandır süre gelen öğtretmenler grevini bitirerek yaptı. Her ne kadar semboller önemli olmasa da politika da (!) kendi eyaleti dahil daha bir çok eyalatte ayuka çıkan bu huzursuz duruma son verir gibi oldu K (onu destekleyenlerin ona verdiği takma isim). Aslında göz boyamadan başka bir şey değildi bu çünkü öğretmelerin yaşadığı problemler bugün hala gündemde hatta protesto yapan öğretmenlerde birisi polis tarafından öldürüldüğü halde hükümet konuyu ört bas etmekten başka bir şey yapamadı (Eyaletin valisi değiştirildi sadece).

Böyle hızlı başlayan görevi boyunca elle tutulur neler oldu peki Arjantin’de?

Aslında Arjantin ufak bir grup için çok, çoğunluk içinse çok az değişti demek hiç de yanlış olmaz. Kirshner’in planı Dünya’daki bir çok lider ile aynı; ekonomik büyüme ve politik düzen. Arjantinlilerde aynı bizler gibi bu plana kollarını açtılar ve bırakmaya da niyetleri yok tabii. Ama hükümeti eleştirenlere bakarsanız ortada hiçbir plan yok ve olmadı da. Kirshnerciler ise her zaman için nasıl yapıldığı değil, elde olanla ölçülmesi gerektiğini destekliyorlar.

Rakamlara baktığmızda, the Economist’e göre Arjantin son 4 yılda, yılda %9 oranında büyümüş, yoksulluk ve işsizlik 2003’e göre yarı yarıya azalmış. Buenos Aires sokakları bankaların neredeyse hediye ettiği kredileri harcayan portenolarla dolu. Son günlerin gözde esprisi Kasım ayındaki seçimleri Plasma seçimleri diye anıyor (plasma Tvler peynir-ekmek gibi satıyor, stok yetişmemekte Buenos Aires’e). Büyük şehirlerde restoranlar tekrar her gece dolmaya başladı, kriz unutuldu gitti neredeyse, en azından bazıları için.

Ekonominin düzelmesi her Başkan gibi Kirshner’i de ya rezil edecekti ya da vezir. Ondan öncekilerin politik hayatlarını katletmesine rağmen Kirshner belki de Arjantin’i en dip noktadayken eline aldığı için belki de kendiliğinden düzelmekte olan ekonominin kahramanı olarak yoğurdun kaymağını yerken buldu kendisini. Parmağını bile kıpırdatmadı desek yeridir.

Eh tabii en önemli sorun otomatik pilotta iken Kirshner’de son 4 yıldır her politikacının en çok yapmayı sevdiği şey olan güç gösterileri yaparak değerlendiriyor vaktini. 2005’de yapılan ara seçimlerde iki sene önceki %22lik popülaritesi bir anda %80’lere fırlamıştı. Karşısında kimsenin olmaması da onun suçu diyemeyiz.

Deyim yerindeyse halktan aldığı gazla İMF’ye borçlarını ve faizlerini ödeyemeyeceklerini açıkladı ki Dünya’yı yankıladı bu kararı. ABD’nin 2001’den sonra değiştirilen vize kurallarına karşılık olarak Brezilya’yı destekledi Amerikalıların kendi sınırlarında aynı muameleyi göreceklerini açıkladığında (Arjantin’e girerken elimi kolumu sallayrak bir Türk olarak yanımda uzun kuyruklarda bekletilen, parmak izleri alınan Amerikalılar gördüğümde inanamamıştım 2005’de), yurtsever ve gurulu Arjantinliler sokalarda bie başka yürümeye başlamışlardı. Tarih boyunca liderlerinin çoğunun vaadettiği ama bir türlü ellerinde göremedikleri kavramlardı bunlar halk için.

ABD’nin düşüncelerine ya da söylediklerine sakın aldanmayın; K sol görüşlü bir lider değil olmaya da çalışmadı. Ülkedeki sola göre hatta Kirshner’in döneminde zengin ile fakir arasındaki fark daha da büyümüş olabilir. Ama Kirshner solu insan hakları kartını oynayarak en baştan kazandığı için korkmasına gerek yok. Dikta sırasında 30 bin kişinin kaybolmasına sebep olan generallerin yargılanması için OK verdi (henüz kimse yargılanmadı ama neyse) ki bu Arjantin tarihinde çok büyük bir adımdı insan hakları konusunda. Kirshner sağcı da değil ama konservatif burjuvalar K’nın dönemi boyunca gördükleri kadar uzun ve verimli bir ekonomik coşku ve tüketim patlaması yaşamadıkları için çok mutlular tabii. Kasım ayındaki seçimlerde karşısında doğru düzgün bir aday olmamasını böyle açıklayabilirsiniz.

Her ne kadar Buenos Aires yerel seçimlerinde sürpriz olarak K’nın desteklediği aday Daniel Filmus, Mauricio Macri karşısında ikinci tura kalmış olsa da (ki şehir bayağı hüzünlendi Macri’nin farklı galibiyetinden sonra 3 Haziran akşamında), Başkan 10 Aralık’da yapacağı açıklamaya hazırlamış durumda: Arjantin Cehennemden çıktı, simdi Araf’dayız! (Tabii Vatikan artık Araf olmadığını açıkladı kısa bir süre önce, bu da ufak bir problem yaratabilir K için!) Kirshner bununla da kalmıyor; şu ana kadar politik tarihte rastlanmamış bir ilke de imza atabilir. Gündemdeki dedikodulardan en gözdesi tekrar seçilmek yerine yine kendi partisinden olan karısı Christina’nın (ki yıllardır aktif olarak polika yapan bir kadın kendisi) Başkanlık yarışına sokacağı. Eğer bu gerçekleşirse ve Mrs. K kazanırsa seçimleri, Arjantinliler için çok önemli olan bir “Dünyada ilk’e ” daha imza atacaklar: İlk defa demokratik olarak seçilmiş bir Başkan yine demokratik olarak seçilen eşine görev teslim edecek Aralık ayında. Ulusal gururu okşamayı bilmek bu olsa gerek.


Anlayacağınız Arjantin’de K’lar yepyeni sürprizlerle Kasım aynı bekliyorlar. Bu buğulu kış günlerinde daha önce bahsettiğim ulusal unutkanlığı saflıkla karıştırıyor olmasınlar sakın?

1..2...3...4....She is 30

I definetely over did the partying this year for the honor of my 30 years in this world. I love bdays! I always thought I would have a spectacular 30th bday party and I certainly did. Only I wished the whole time that I was in Istanbul with my friends and family!

Celebrations started a couple of days earlier, 31st of march, Peggy threw a party for me at her incredible loft. I searched for some long lost friends (liron) and the party included some college friends, two ex-boyfriends, some ex-coworkers and neighbors, and my girls (and lots of good food and booze).

3 days later on my actual birthday, I went out to dinner with Sahnet, Peggy, and one of my mothers best friends. New Yorks best turkish restaurant, Turkish Kitchen was our choice for the night and lots of good conversation accompanied our turkish feast.

I left New York for Miami once again. Hoping that the next time it would only be with a small suitcase and for the occasion of celebrating my Brothers 30th bday! I started to hate travelling like this: a suitcase full of stuff that I have to shlep accross the world because I do need it, that is my house! I was lucky that Sahnet and Yvonne decided to join me for a couple of days in Miami--it was the easter break--so we shared my misery among us. My brother picked us up late friday night and we decided to stay in. Next night was my "30 is the New Red" dinner party organized by Chantal who I have not seen for 5 months!

I spent most of the Saturday at a Yoga workshop with her, meanwhile Feyzi took the girls to SOuth Beach for some sightseeing and swimming. New Yorkers were chochas, it is always great to leave NY when it is cold and find oneself at Miami beach sweating! We met up and went home to finish our prep for the night. Chantal told all the invitees that they have to wear somehting red to dinner. Little Havanas Best: La Carreta! I was dying to eat some cuban food, and mojitos for a long while and my wish was granted. My dear Miamian friends Tom and Jose, CHanti and her cousin AnamArgaret, yoga teacher who gave the workshop that day, My clan and Feyzis friend Feyza. All in red, all mojitoed out and happy! Group separeted after dinner and us four hit the road for some SoBe partying.

Feyzis best friend Nikki, model-bartender (or bartender-model) works at a glam latin club on Lincoln Road so we usually go there everytime I am in Miami for the last year. He picked us up at the door, and we immediately started dancing and joining the latins from all around the continent singing along. Feyzi soon met a chick and left us and we left him a bit later to sleep around dawn and wake up early enough to hit the beach.


The weather has been great the whole time when the girls were there, except maybe an afternoon when we shopped all we could! Their last day was amazing though because Tom and Jose invited all of us for a boat trip around the island they lived!

We prepared a picnic pack and lots of wine and went to the Venetian Island where the boys are renovating their already amazing house to make it even more amazing. They showed us around and then we jumped into the boat and take off for one of the best trips I have taken in Miami! Miami from the water is a totally different Miami. We toured around the private islands of Miami beach, constructed by mr. (will check name) in the 20s! Almost all the houses we saw were state of the architecture of the era. Their lives are so distinct to 90 percent of the MIamians who have to go through highways and roads to get somewhere! Having a waterfront property means liberty in my opinion. Liberty to leave whenever you want! check out please!

After a great week in Miami and so many amazing parties, I have so little urge to go back to Buenos Aires nor Montevideo. I know I have to go back and finish some projects, close my apartment, work, get better. My feet are almost walking back at the airport.I almost pick a fight with the check in woman from AA, she is so slow, but I am not in a hurry, yet I am annoyed by her slowness.

I am on the plane, shitty movies, shitty food. I am feeling blue.

I am 30! En fin!

Non! Rien de rien ...
Non ! Je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait
Ni le mal tout ça m'est bien égal !

Non ! Rien de rien ...
Non ! Je ne regrette rien...
C'est payé, balayé, oublié
Je me fous du passé!

Avec mes souvenirs
J'ai allumé le feu
Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs
Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux !

Balayés les amours
Et tous leurs trémolos
Balayés pour toujours
Je repars à zéro ...

Non ! Rien de rien ...
Non ! Je ne regrette nen ...
Ni le bien, qu'on m'a fait
Ni le mal, tout ça m'est bien égal !

Non ! Rien de rien ...
Non ! Je ne regrette rien ...
Car ma vie, car mes joies
Aujourd'hui, ça commence avec toi !

La Foule de Istanbul

It is march already. That means I am a month away from being 30. Yet this insane wisdom started to pop up during the most unexpected moments of my life. It is very scary, because it requiers continuum. No, I did not totally lose it. I just had these thoughts, and had to write them down in order to continue what I am supposed to be doing.

I don't think it started during the wedding, but maybe soon after. I left Istanbul right after the wedding, to visit mom in Qatar and if it was not for her, I would never done it. Just the idea of packing and getting into a plane made me sick. The sight of the airport made me sad. The smell of the airplane made me sick. I almost had an anxiety attack in the plane, but thanks to my dear granma I landed fine. I landed but there was one thing in my mind: this lifestyle was not to last longer. I am pretty sure I made up my mind about putting an end to my nomadic lifestyle around the world and staying put for a while at that moment.

Visiting my mother was amazing and seeing that she is happy there, was a relief, both for me and Annemo. I am supporting her decision about taking this position and flying from home finally. Doha is a cute city, she has great friends and coworkers and her standarts of living are much higher than what she has back in Istanbul. While analyzing her, I started to think? Was my expat life worth it? Maybe not.

I am so glad I did everything I had done, everyone I met, all the experiences and travelling. But since I left Cuba, I don't think I am happy--which explains a lot. I don't regret my moving to Southern Cone at all, but maybe it is time to go back now. And even the thought of it scares me shitless because this is the first ever time I think this way.

I had another amazing month back in Istanbul, even when I was all by myself walking down its streets, when I was with my friends (mostly those who I became friends recently, as an adult), when I was on live television talking about what I know best, when I was at the hairdresser, when I was buying vegetables, etc. I started to feel like this is where I eventually will come back to live, so maybe my friends are right (both Asli and Ayca kept telling me how I should come back and built a stable life before it is too late), it may be too late when I shlep my fabulous ass back here in five years, as I always thought I would.

I look at the pictures, I don't look as happy as in the ones taken in Turkey, do I?

My Friend's Big Fat Turkish Wedding

Soon after the bachelerotte party, and an amazing February 14 (I had absolutely no plans nor expectations, but the way my night had shaped itself, in such a poetic way, it was my best so far. It was so good yet I rather save it in my memory instead of spilling it here, sorry!) and Asli's first wedding (where she signed the papers) came her Real Wedding day!

I woke up to see that it was raining like cats and dogs (not great news considering the fact that my hair had to stay intact all night long and I had to get it done early enough so that I can be with Asli when they were doing her hair!). I left for my hairdresser around 2 o c'clock, and once again realized that hair dressers love weddings. The whole salon was in my service, I dont know why they were so excited about making my hair (it is not even my wedding) and while doing it, they would say: "you are going to be a great bride one day, only if you meet someone, maybe at this wedding, no?" I explained nicely that as my best friend decided to marry another of my best friends, there was not any way I was going to meet someone new at this wedding and plus, I really was not looking forward to get married yet. I saw the terror in the nail girls eyes, she was petrified, she probably was thinking: poor girl, she is almost 30 and has no man! I also made sure that they did not perform anything frilly on my hair (my idea was rockabilly chic, in retrospect, I might have looked half butchy)

I left there, and thanks to Annemo, I had a huge umbrella, made it home without getting wet, I was afraid all that gel that they sprayed will melt. Luckily got a cab and again, luckily crossed to the other side of the town in less than an hour. Aslis was waiting for me at the hotel's hair dresser, together with her american college mates, who all were getting ready but always had a moment to go next to her and say "Oh my god! You look gorgeous!" which made her a bit uneasy, and the situation so girly girl, I thought I was going to vomit soon. Thank god the maitre d' brought some champagne and we all had some, to relax. It worked!

When the hair and makeup ended (I even got make up that night, I thought I would like it, but the makeup artist as a real turk, had to over paint myface, as a rule, I had to take it off slowly during the wedding party) we went upstairs to her room to dress her up, and I really wanted to help my friend, but the other girls made it impossible for me to stay there, so I chose to leave and chat with her husband and other friends. I looked really hot, with my red dress, vintage gold sandals and my hairdo!




The party was a lot of fun. I always enjoy seeing all my highschool friends, and thank myself for leaving them 10 years ago and doing it my way. I look at them and see myself with them, always dissatisfied with life, and I really don't regret leaving all that behind and building my life the way I saw fit back than, and now. I also see that I am now ready to come back, maybe for good, and live again in my country, because now I dont have to hang out with anyone from that group that once I thought it would be so hard to break from (and in some cases, I dont even have to worry about it, they dont even want to hang out with me anyways!).

After dancing all night, and chatting with those I still like, getting buzzed, dancing more, davul and zurna (a turkish classic, drums and flutes anouncing the wedding to the whole town kind of thing but we were inside a five-star hotel) and more drinking, we left the bride and groom in peace, and finished our night.

So much to do before Asli G. Wedding, so little time

Upon my arrival to Istanbul I called up my best friend and started helping her with all the necesary --and unncessary--things that have to ben done before her big day. We spent hours at the hairdressers, then made hundreds of wedding favors, and other small things, but my favorite was her bachelerotte party!

As a psedo-foreigner in the city, I was not sure what to do for her party, thank god Ayca thought of an amazing idea: a day at the HAMAM!

None of us have done the traditional turkish bath before (we should have, after the first time I am hooked already) and had no idea what to expect. We closed to 500 year old Galatasaray Hamam (located behind our fabulous highschool) for four of us, and took Asli there as a surprise. She could not even guessed what we planned her until she got there and was happy with our small plan.

We entered this foreign land, with our bathrobes and flipflops on our hands (asli's mom bought us hamam sets before hand). The owner of the place was unexpectedly young and modern, and behind her there were 4 older ladies, on the other side of the lobby there was a table set up for us with food and drinks, and a gipsy band (all female) and a belly dancer waved at us from another room. We were each given a private changin room, so we got rid of our clothes and put a pestemal (a rectangular cotton fabric you wrap around you) and very Jean Paul Gaultierish wooden sandals (they are the traditional bath sandals though, he copied them so did Prada in the late 90s) . The owner explained to us that we shall sweat for a little bit, then be exfoliated, then eat and dance, and later they would soap us and bath us.

Taking a Turkish bath firstly involves relaxing in a room (known as the warm room) that is heated by a continuous flow of hot dry air allowing the bather to perspire freely. Bathers may then move to an ever hotter room (known as the hot room) before splashing themselves with cold water. After performing a full body wash and receiving a massage, bathers finally retire to the cooling-room for a period of relaxation.



We asked them to serve us cold beer after a while at the steam room, and after a can of beer each, due to the heat we were buzzed! We were giggily and anxious to see what was going to happen. Then the door opened, and a lady, younger than the other ones appeared in her cheesy black underwear holding a glove. She looked more like a cheap hooker than a hammam personel, she asked with a sweet voice who wanted to go first (for exfoliation) and we suggested Tanji, Asli's friend from college who had been in a bath before. She bravely went and lay down in front of her. We all watched her getting her skin peeled off, but she seemed confortable. I volunteered next, mostly out of curiosity. I really did not want to lose my great tan before the wedding but getting a baby soft skin was a great idea.

I lay down in front of her, the hot marble burning my ass, and shut my eyes, I rather fantasized about George Clooney washing me instead of a cheap whore looking bath worker, she scrubbed all my body, throughly, turning me around, and shortly she was like "Ok, you're done, who's next!" We left the bride to be for last, and when she was done, we showered and went in to the lobby area to eat and listen to gipsies.

It was so much fun to belly dance on top of the uncomfortable slippers with our towels falling off, gipsies playing known tunes to our ears, turkish mezes served and some more cold beer helping us to bear with this surreal activity overall. I am sure we were all trying to erase the picture of the scrubbing lady's saggy tits moving in front of our noses half an hour ago (I never understood why she was naked)!!!

I dont know how much time we spend there, we were then asked to go back so that they could soap us with their special lavender soaps, and they did, then washed our hair, clean the bath and closed it after us.
All we could do after the hammam was to get a drink at a near bar, but we were so exhausted we all went home and dreamt of being washed just like this but by hot men (at least that is what I dreamt!) all the time!

Istanbul in Winter

I left Uruguay, right in the middle of its beautiful sunny days, beaches, my friends. I felt like "euw winter" while getting on the plane, but when I landed to Miami, held by my brother and spend a couple of days resting at his new apartment (he is a homeowner now) I felt better and started to get ready for my best friend's wedding which was going to take place in Istanbul, in ten days.

Aside from relaxing and trying to erase the biggest self-indulgent asshole I have dated for the last couple of months, my main goal was to find the perfect dress for the event. I knew that if I went to NY I'd probably found an amazing dress, but on a second thought, I did not want to suffer through the city's below 0 temperatures, so I bagged it.

Starting from the most obvious places (Neiman's, Aventura Mall, etc) to the thrift stores I looked all around (I even opened some of my boxes to see if I had anything interesting inside them). I found an incredible red dress, when least expecting, on the bottom of a sale pile in a store, and fell in love with it. I knew finding shoes and a bag that goes with it was not going to be easy but, the dress was spectacular and I had to wear it no matter what.

Even though my dear Chantal was not there, and the weather did not help me get more tanned, I had a good break before the wedding, healed my wounds (ok, I am exagerating, I forgot about everything that happened in Uruguay in a day) and mentally made myself ready in order to attend a wedding, not any wedding though, the one that I was sure I would be asked every five minutes "when was I going to get married, now that my best friend was married."

I left Miami after a week, flew to NYC, waited at the airport for 5 hours--thanks to my mother who gave me a VIP pass, I spend the whole time at Delta's business lounge, getting a massage from a chair, stretching my body, awesomeeee---and slept through the whole flight all the way to Istanbul.

As mom was not living there anymore, this was my first time arriving to an empty airport, noone to look for, I walked to the next available cab, got in, and took of for the Asian side where home is. I asked the driver to take the longest yet nicest road, looking at the beautiful Marmara Sea and then the Bosphorus, thinking what am I doing living somewhere other than this incredible city...

Gran Premio Ramirez: A Day at the Uruguayan Derby

Por Una Cabeza, de un noble potrillo......

those are the lyrics to my favorite tango. Years ago, during my first visit to Uruguay, I heard that song at a friend's house. I thought (I did not listen to the lyrics with attention) that it was one of the most beautiful love songs ever written. The next day when I looked up the lyrics, I found out that the song was about love, but not for a human being! The person was singing his heart out for a noble horse, his admiration for gambling and the heartbreak at the end! Lovely isn't it.

Titi and I arrived in the hippodrome around 12, as she was going to work that day, dressed her up in a colonial outfit so that she will stroll around the excited gamblers and gauchos all day long. Gran Premio Ramirez (the Ramirez Prize) is the most important derby in this country and people all around the country were there, some cowboys, some ranch owners, gamblers, and loose people from the neighborhood who had nothing better to do than paying 2 dollars and hang out there for the whole day. I got a VIP pass thanks to Titi and with her new boyfriend, entered the VIP section where you could clearly tell all the Uruguyan upper class (especially from the country side, i.e. latifundistas) were there. Women were eating and drinking together at the restaurants where men were grouped around the podium, checking out the horses, and then betting on them on many registers available. Gambling is legal and almost promoted in this country, so even little boys were betting.

I have never gambled in my life before. I wanted to play baccarat in Monte Carlo when I was 12, but got caught and the security asked me kindly to leave the premises, because I was "too young". After that episode, I have been in casinos, only to leave immediatly because it made me feel bad to watch people (gamblers) so desperate looking in front of stupid machines. My fantasies about playing roulette or black jack, all dressed up in MC is way too nice than sitting next to a smelly midwesterner in Las Vegas, drinking and gambling himself to death!

I was ready this time. It was an important horse race and I thought: while losing heavily on love, I should win the biggest price in this derby! We waited till it was time for the most important race, getting buzzed with free drinks at the VIP room, and when it was time, I betted on the surprise horse, a beautiful Arabian black baby, number 5. Got my ticket and went closer to the finish line. The race started, people were screaming, jumping around, the whole hippodrome was on fire with energy like I have never felt in this country. I actually saw passion in their eyes. What a relief.

My horse was getting closer, and suddenly was at the first place! Yuppyyyyy..Then appeared number 12, getting closer, closer, and the race was over. I still had hope. We waited, holding our breathe until the final decision was posted on the billboard. Winner: Numero 12 !

Por una cabeza (with a head difference) I lost.

First 15 Days of January: I don't recommend being in Montevideo

Coming back from the beach is usually very hard for me, but this year, given the circumstances, I was almost running back to Montevideo!

I have not been in Montevideo last January, luckily I was at the beach the whole time. After my horrible christmas eve and then New Year's, I decided that I could not be in la Pedrera one more minute and came back home. Only to find out that I was the only person there! (Titi keeps smsing me: Only the dorks are in Montevideo, come back!)

My first morning in the city was almost surreal: noone at the streets but me! Montevideo is a city with few people to begin with and when those few leave, we were left with absolutely nobody--even my cleaning lady told me when I called her, that she was going to be out of town for the first two weeks of January, and excused herself from work! I was petrified. How can I recover from a horrible break-up, if all my friends are gone, and there is nothing to do in this city de mierda?

I worked non-stop for the first week. Writing, sleeping, eating, and sun bathing at the roof. I only left my apartment to get food and the paper. My favorite grocery store was closed, for god's sake!

Towards the end of the week, I was even cleaning the bathroom so that the time goes by, somehow. Titi's call saying she is coming to the city for the biggest Derby in Uruguay made my day! I have not been in a derby before, plus it was the only activity in the city that weekend.

So I bought a hat and waited for her.

December 31st: Celebrating New Year in 4 different time zones!

I rushed to the grocery store (el Mono's. Even after the better super market opened, I kept shopping from him because he was the only place in La Pedre during the off season and had quality service) and got some peaches. It was 31st of December and I felt like noone but me had the "new year fiesta mood" but me! Orhan Abi was still feeling sick and Yasemin too, how Omer felt was not really my concern at that point, and I was feeling defeated! One should not feel defeated on the last of the year. I thought of all my achievements during 2006. Not bad, it was a good year over all, a great year. The stuff that made me sad last year were kidstuff comparing to the year before that one@! How ever, a week before closing the book, this stupid punk had to ruin it for me, a week before today! How insensitive! I was going to feel like, "I got a great career, great circle of friends, globe-trotting party life style, and a place to live. And on top of everything, I have a great boyfriend! --At least on paper! I wanted to feel what did the "happiliy ever after" mean. How much of it was true and how much of it was lies? The only way to understand it was to have it and he ruined it, by breaking up with me first on the christmas eve!

I entered the new year with my people--at Turkish time--with Orhan Abi and Yasemin, drinking frozen peach daiquiris (after 3 weeks at the beach one becomes familiar with how to make good drinks), Orhan had whisky actually, looking at the sun set and moon rise at the same time! Incredible view, and strong south american sun, even though atlantic's winds were chilling still was heating our backs--Orhan decided to take a picture and send it over there to the people! That's when the photo on top was taken.

Three more of those daiquiris, a shower and getting into my tight dress (a notch away from being a corset), putting make-up and getting gorgeous later I was ready to celebrate the new year in Uruguay--again! That is a big surprise to a lot of people who know me. They thought I would not stay there more than 6 months but I managed to almost finish my second year. I like it here, it is enigmatic yet easy. I needed being like this to get to where I think i should be going. A gut feeling, but resulted positively, even to my surprise.

We entered the restaurant with a minus one (Omer managed to get lost, noone made a big deal because by that night we all knew he was doing it to get attention or to be with at least one person. co-dependent) our host welcomed us, I had to kiss the whole wait staff and some of the sous-chefs (as I am the ex of the boss, and friend, and in friendly Uruguay, one has to do that I guess) and sat at the end of the table. My friend Mercedes and her husband Javier and Herb came all the way to spend the new year with us (what a great feeling) so we were a bunch. Our "cute" waitress Sonia (who seems like we are friends only because I smiled at her back twice!) came and explained the menu (6 courses) and then Juan came for the wine order. I wanted to drink white wine and hoped he will bring me a glass of Terrunyo, but no, even though he acted as if he knew exactly what I want (it is so arrogant for him to think he knows me well, he has absolutely no idea what I like) and brought me another wine, a whole bottle of it, and said "it's new year's you shall finish the bottle by yourself" (such a bad influence this chico). I did finish it at the end of the night, needless to say.

I entered the new Year in Uruguay, with a little bit mala onda (I tend to enter any new year with a great joy, and tons of hope, yet this time, I actually had this feeling that I was going to have a horrible night but the year is going to bring me everything I want!). By that time, I was annoyed by Omer's hypocritical attitude and Juan was ignoring me, and I did not give any of them a hug for the new year! I had tears in my eyes, I was mad, so mad that I could not finish the year the way I expected to do. Recovering from defeat is very hard. My ego feels so crushed (I am yet to understand how come I am entering the year all alone while so many imbeciles manage not to??) But realizing that this is the most infantile feeling a 29-year old woman can feel, in retrospective, I was ashamed. Tears were unstopeble for a good 15 minutes. Then they went away, Juan's brother came next to me and poor me more champagne and smiled, there was welcome in his smile, I felt that he was my friend.

After the 40 minute long fireworks (argentine upper class who resides in La Pedrera love to show off. One of them, Jorge Acevedo, the king of steel, competed with Maitena, the famous argentine caroonist/feminist, for this year's best fireworks. I calculated that at least 20 thousand dollars worth of fireworks was shot, for our pleasure to their expense) we were back at the table to finish the last course. The food was really bad this year, Alejo's absence was felt deeply. Omer, again, started to bitch about staying there and I could not stand it anymore so I stand up and said if he wanted to leave he was more than welcome! I managed to drove him nuts this time and finally we all saw the real Omer, histerical, screaming at me (Mom is right, I am definetely capable of driving people crazy, I guess). Orhan interfered and defended me and things cool down a bit. I entered the new year according to NY time by then!

Traditionally in La Pedre, the biggest New Year's party is thrown by Paz, an trust fund baby who lives ravishly with her husband Julio in this small town--at this mansion which looks like someone brought it from Fiji or something. They seem down to earth yet I have a feeling that they feel like they are more special than the rest of the world a little bit! Anyways, we were invited to the party and went there all together. The bar was open (little bottles of Argentina's own Chandon champagne and whisky was abundant) and horrible electronic music was banging all night long. Everybody looked like they were high out of their minds (another La Pedrera tradition), we must be the only ones who did not pop exctacy that night (or chrytstal meth as I heard someone was giving away!) At one point our group--an hour later Juan's team joined us too-- were dancing and drinking energy drinks to stay up. I was determined this year to stay up (last year I slept through the same party, comfortably at a sunbed next to their pool!) and lasted to celebrate the New Year in Los Angeles time as well. Around 7:30 I was so tired I left the party, walked my fabulous self to the hotel, changed and took a dip in the ocean before crashing! What a New Year!!!!

High Times

I left for Buenos Aires right after the night of the blackout. After 3 months in Montevideo, I was longing for a big city, I needed to work there for a bit and ofcourse I had to pick up one of my best friend's from college, Jack, who decided to spend his only vacation in a year with me, here in the South Cone.

The trip with the cheap Buquebus was as painful as usual, but I arrived in Corina's house in one piece, woke her up and took her out to breakfast at our favorite little cafe in Boedo, Cafe Margot! Later that day, we participated in a protest, together with 50 thousand argentines who are asking for the release of a political prisoner, then a quick nap, and went out. Weekend passed by pretty fast and early monday morning I took a bus to the airport to get my dearest friend from the airport. It was a stressfull trip, it took me 2 hours to get there, but luckily as I entered the terminal, Jack was recently getting out of the customs, his face said: I need to smoke a cigarrette desperately!

We spend a couple of days in Buenos Aires, very casual days let's say. Jack is the kind of visitor that I dream of having, he is not the usual tourist, he enjoys just hanging out as if he lives there the whole time.

We took the morning Buquebus back to Montevideo: I recommend that trip during sunny summer days: boat has a deck, where everybody lays down and sun bathes, smokes, drinks, it was awesome! Jack loves smoking and he is good at it (approximately 2 packs a day!), he was so happy that we had the possibility of travelling without limitations!

He liked Montevideo, even more than Buenos Aires, he said, I guess because it is more of an easygoing city for people who like to relax during their vacations. Our days in Montevideo were usually quiet: I left for work early in the morning, he stayed home and read and rested. There were a couple of parties, like Herb's Thanksgiving event, we went there with Titi and of course my beau du moment, Juan (a.k.a. the hot owner of the restaurant) and we celebrated my 1st year at the cupula with an Asado at the roof of my building.

We decided over night to go to the coast of Uruguay, to my favorite balneario, La Pedrera, and took the first bus there one morning. We woke up and we were there. It was so empty and beautiful. I remembered last summer, and thought thank god so much has changed since then. I was grateful for all that led me to the present. I was full of hope with this new summer to begin with and it felt so good to have it all to my self, I did not have to share it with no one except Jack. I fell in love with the place even more during its off season, even though there was so little to do there, with Jack we managed to entertain ourselves, watching frogs, observing the preparations for the season, swiming in the cold water (he did not, I did) and talking (he did not, I did!)

Unfortunately I could not stay there as much as Jack, and left for Montevideo to prepare myself for the most important interview of 2006 (I managed to get an interview from Eduardo Galeano, it is worth writing about it in a seperate entry!)

After a day or two in Montevideo, we packed again for Buenos Aires. He was leaving and Orhan Abi was arriving for the season! We spend his last days partying and discovering the city a bit more, and high times were soon over. Saying good bye was really hard, even though I did not want to admit to my self, I was getting used to having a great friend with me, here in this foreign land. I had to walk away from his warm hug fast as I can, and he did the same thing. High times were over, three weeks passed by so fast. What they say is true, time goes by so fast when you are having fun!