Who would like a KITTEN?

Three sweet kittens and one mom looking for homes. Their pregnant mother befriended me, conned me into feeding her, and then decided to have her kittens on my porch. Now I feel somewhat responsible for their welfare. Kittens are about 3 weeks old, not weaned yet. The mother is the sweetest cat I've ever met, but she can sure hold her own against the neighborhood dog. She has got some attitude!

Not sure about import to U.S., costs, etc., but if you are interested, you know how to contact me. Seriously.

Konya

Last week I went to Konya and participated in another English language camp. This time, I was just a fill-in teacher for a day - no stress!

Located on the Central Anatolian plateau, known previously as Iconium, Claudioconium, and Colonia Aelia Hadriana, Konya is known as one of the most conservative cities in Turkey. Most women wear headscarves and there is nary an alcoholic drink to be found in the city (though I am told that the population drinks more per capita than in any other city in Turkey). Ruled by the Hittites, the Phrygians, The Persians, Alexander the Great, The Seljuk Turks, and finally the Ottoman Empire before present-day Turkey, Konya is known as the place where Mawlānā Jalāl-ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī (known to Turks as Mevlana, to us as Rumi) wrote some of his best-known works. After his death, his followers began the Sufi Order or Whirling Dervishes a sect or interpretation of Islam.

I visited the museum/mosque where he is entombed and walked the streets he walked; saw the mountains that he saw. He writes about mystical union and acceptance of everyone, rich or poor, non-believer or believer:

Come, come, whoever you are.
Wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving — it doesn't matter,
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vow a hundred times,
Come, come again, come.

I also got the chance to take a day trip to Kiliri (sp?) a town rumored to be like Cappadocia with ancient houses and churches carved into the stone. I contracted with the hotel driver to take me to the site; we drove for 50 km on increasingly rural roads. Only speaking Turkish, he managed to convey to me that he had not been there before, but he had heard of it. He stopped at a grocery store on the way and bought water and Coke and bananas in case I was thirsty or hungry. When we arrived in the dusty town, the police station that was supposed to be at the entrance to the ruins was nonexistent. He struck up a conversation with the men at the post office who directed us to the various ruins around the town. He drove his taxi till we were in danger of bottoming out. Across the valley, the ruins beckoned to me, but there was no way that we could find to drive there.

I decided to set out on foot, and Fahri, my taxi driver, asked if he could come with me (at least that was my understanding). I answered in the affirmative and we set out, he in dress shoes, dress slacks, white shirt; me in shorts and open-toed sandals (ouch!).

We walked through fields and met some farmers harvesting wheat who directed us to an ancient vineyard where the grape stomping and fermenting rooms were carved into the stone cliffs. It was fun exploring because there wasn’t even one other visitor in the area, just people going about their daily lives.

I finished my trip with a terrific day in Ankara with my good friends, Eve and Michael, who are also English Language Fellows. Had another haircut. . . let’s just say that I am glad I have 6 weeks until I get back to the U.S.