I hate flying, but some times it needs be done, so I bought a ticket...
Arrived to this nation where people seemingly take pride in breaking every traffic rule ever written, smoke like chimneys, where beaches and forests remain intact and beautiful no matter how much litter the local populace spread around them...
Basically spent one week sitting on my cousins porch, sleeping all day, boozing all night (a.k.a. cultural adaption), slowly puzzling together the enigmas of broken pieces of two black sheep - why we are what we are and why we did what we did in life... and what to do next...
Through my dear cousins web of contacts and knowledge I finally ended up at an eco farm, just to discover that the turkish ideal of permaculture is but a superficial phenomena dedicated to attracting tourists, not to preserve nature...
After the Ottoman Empire took a step out of the dark ages to found the nation of Turkey - a modern state with modern values emerged. But a very young welfare state!
Whereas in countries like Sweden and Germany the idea of preserving nature is considered a step backwards in order not to let science spin out of control and rape the soil and soul of mother Earth, in Turkey the same phenomena is just another enigma of a modern welfare state; something to be adapted and fit into the frame of prosperity and industrialization - Thus organic farming is seemingly but another face to attract tourists. Self sustenance is not an option here, at least not for those who choose to live by the law. The bureaucracy does not sustain it!
A valuable lesson I suppose, but not the kind of knowledge I hunger for...
And even though the little institution did not live up to my expectations as far as growing crops and sharing herbal knowledge they had other things to impress: A house built out of mud, meditation and guest houses all built in ecological manner and an outdoor restaurant/swimming pool all set to run without the use of chemicals or gas. Sheep for wool, a cow for milk, and a horse for musclepower. Work consisted of spreading compost over a huge a huge field, chopping wood, gathering bamboo sticks, cleaning the pool and restaurant...
Thus I enjoyed the primitive life, working hard, meeting people, toiling side by side with likeminded, the tranquility of a stream running through an ambient valley in the shade of eucalyptus. Yet forward is the truth and after many a happy helloes and sad goodbyes later, I finally ended up at my cousins porch again.
What to do next?
A short journey within the frames of civilzation: Ripped off by a shoeshiner, embezzled by a one-toothed englishman, and wasting oh-too-much-money on nothing later, I finally parked my arse back on my cousins porch yet again, budget close to nil.
Dammit!
Suddenly two Englishmen entered the little gate. The rumour of the tall, scraggy Swede repairing chimneys had reached them. No such occupation in Turkey, still they had a chimney in need of repair. They had retreated from the ratchase of modern Britain and retreated to Turkish countryside, finding peace. A big old house with an open fireplace, specially designed, consuming wood and breathing fire like an angry dragon. Oxygen needs to be cut off, would I mind looking into it? I agreed, they left, haven’t heard from them since...
Another dead end...
Still have this gift with people, it seems...
A good judge of character, yet on occasion I allow myself to get involved with dark souls, just for the hell of it. But first and foremost, I guess for some reason I’m just bloody likeable.
Thus next offer came from the neighbours, they knew my situation and took pity on me, thus offered me to tend their garden.
A p aid job just 5 meters away from my cousins porch.
Nice.
Now I have been weeding, replanting and designing for three days and in three days I will finish. Small garden!
More offers from within the spider web of my cousins list of friends and contacts: Cleaning a pool, washing cars, cutting wood, build a fence...
1 - 2 days of work, surviving day by day... Doable, indeed, but in the long run not really sustainable...
Seems like I have to use that return ticket after all, another run back home with my tail between my legs, another mission failed and back to home base...
Luckily, a burning soul does know how to recognize another... Thus it seems I’m hitting the mountains for a month or two...
Someone needs a house built and some muscle to pull the weight of cement and wood.
I have been offered a wheelbarrow along steep and bumpy mountain roads, wrestling scorpions and dodging porcupine. Yet they are german and I am swedish, two nationalities cold in mind, yet I believe the purpose of their hearts burn true...
Perhaps there is something to learn!?
We shall see if I’m up for the task.
Over and out.
K.
