(Cairo to Istanbul)
Another one of my many “red-eyes”, tonight’s flight took the cake because it left Cairo at 3:30am. This timing was perfectly placed in the “no sleep zone”. A two-hour check-in requirement meant leaving the hotel at 1:00am.
This extra time gave me a little pause to think about the last three months in Africa and what broad strokes I have learned. In general the continent is woven with a quiet people. The masses speak so softly that it is hard at times to hear which language is spoken. In school, it was a constant pulling of volume out of the children when answering questions. Even in the local villages, towns, and cities the people are thinking, reserved vocally, and generally very kind. It really makes me wonder how many African descendants outside the continent have developed such a reputation for loud, boisterous, blurting. What triggered the change?
Malawi was by far the poorest and most inviting of the countries visited.
The children there had the most beautiful singing voices. When learning a new song, the girls in the Junior Secondary School would automatically break into harmony taking their lead from where ever the melody singers would lead. There appears to be a correlation between wealth and singing ability. In Tanzania, the girls could still sing but it was more of a game than a passion. Kenya yielded a wandering melody and broken attempts at harmony. Ghana was practically a lost melodic cause. Musical facility degradation aligned in perfect ascending wealth order. My hunch is that as wealth increases then other forms of entertainment take priority over singing and eventually, as in the United States, active creation of music becomes a skill held by a minimal minority of the population.
As a continent, Africa is plagued with corruption in almost every level of government and civil organizations. It is the primary limiting factor to economic growth and stability. The troubling fact is that taking of bribes is led by the government sector. This was true in Malawi, with the immigration officers asking for money in order to leave the country, beyond the typical airport exit fees. They suddenly backed off when other tourists arrived at the passport check desk. In Kenya bribes or “tipping” as they call it is so commonplace that the locals say that they feel guilty if they do not give a “tip” to government officials for completing their requisite task. Ghana was the most “tip” intensive country to date, with uniformed government officials attempting to extract money almost immediately upon arrival. This continental culture leads to a drastic divide between the “have” and “have not” populous groups. In Tanzania, the regional police commissioner was caught with tens of millions of dollars in a Swiss bank account, taken from citizens and organized crime syndicates. It is frustrating to know that in these very poor countries millions of dollars are flowing, but it is not meeting the common people but is siphoned off to a limited few while millions are malnourished.
The final trend noticed was the treatment of children. As a whole, East Africa treated children with much more care than Ghana. In Malawi, a mother who is unkind or non-responsive to children is recognized as needing improvement. (This grandmother was very kind to her orphaned grandchildren.)
In Tanzania, teachers regularly use threat and actual corporal punishment as a suppression tool. The gardener’s son, a bright wonderful middle school boy, brought his last test to me one evening. He had a simple question, “I don’t understand how these three problems are incorrect.” We reviewed and solved the three equations. They were answered correctly and marked, with a red “X” as answered falsely. Naively, I told him that he should take the test to his teacher to have points added. (He is the #3 student in his class and working to be in the top two.) When approached the teacher’s response was, “Don’t bother me with this or I will beat you.” Culturally ignorant, I had inadvertently sent this boy to a certain, predestined, fate. In Tanzania, it doesn’t matter how wrong a teacher may be, one never challenges the knowledge or supremacy of a teacher. If you do, a beating is a common outcome. (Muslim school in Zanzibar.)
While in Ghana, even the most caring parents are very hard on their children. Their tone is situationally harsh. For instance, when eating there is no room for any activity but eating. Talking is sparse and parents keep their children focused on a very short verbal leash. Parents regularly cane or beat their children. It is a practice passed from one generation to the next. It is very interesting that there is an emotional and logic disconnection from harsh physical discipline and a parent’s self perceived love for their offspring. A local child was having troubles with other kids in their village. When the father found out he asked his son, “Why didn’t you come to me?” The child responded, “Because I was afraid that you would beat me.” When the man told the story he was in total disbelief that his son would be that afraid of him. Obviously, his actions toward his son had not met with a personal cause and effect logic outcome.
Overall, I loved the experience in Africa, despite the bout of malaria. Every society has its interwoven dark underside. My hope is that the warp and woof of the continental fabric becomes less threadbare on the visible topside and less burdened by the ballast of corruption. Despite this burden, there are thousands of internation NGO's and government agencies giving aid. The most hopeful signs are the local residents who go out of their way to care for others. Maybe, naively, my hope is that the tide will gradually turn for the 45 million African orphans through the collective help of the world and most importantly the native peoples of Africa.
After arriving in Istanbul at 5:25am I headed blindly to the hostel in the Sultanahmet area of Istanbul. The website hostelbookers.com has been a “life saver”. Thus far, the practice of booking online with the highest rated hostel, in each city, has gleaned pretty good results. This was especially true of Istanbul and the Antique Hostel, located two blocks away from the largest and most popular sites in Turkey, the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia. Both monuments are clearly visible from the hostel rooftop.
A long sleepless night left me exhausted and hungry, so I ventured out to find food. Istanbul is a beautiful city with an eclectic blend of European and Middle Eastern style. The streets are cobble stone and narrow, while the skyline is dominated by mosque domes and minarets.
Leaving the hostel, I simply turned left and walked until I found a place to eat and this turned out to be Tamara Restaurant.
Not speaking a word of Turkish, I simply pointed to the only phrase recognizable, “Full Breakfast”, and the waiter was off to the kitchen. A full breakfast turned out to be an absolute feast compared to the beans and rice fare of Africa. There were several types of herb crèmes and cheeses surrounded by vegetables and olives. Two other dishes accompanied the plate along with a basket of fresh “crusted bread”. The first side dish was honey, straight from the comb, and the other something vaguely resembling hazelnut sauce. As if this weren’t enough a skillet of mixed eggs and beef arrived. Simply add a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and let the feast begin.
After a filling breakfast, the hostel’s internet café was open which provided the opportunity to catch up on e-mail and try to re-establish blogging. The blogger.com site had intermittent access, so the best efforts were made. This was probably for the best because a massive nap was definitely in order and actually consumed much of the afternoon.
For dinner, the perfect dish may have been discovered in the form of Ali Nazik.
This dinner display consisted of a bed of minced eggplant, called aborigine in Turkey, blended with yogurt, surrounded by vegetables and topped with freshly grilled lamb kabob.
Using a wheat baguette to transfer the flavors and not taste the stainless steel of the fork, I was in absolute heaven. The flavor started slowly and was masked by the freshness and moisture of the vegetables and smooth yogurt eggplant blend. But, by the final few succulent bites a mild heat built and lingered. I love a meal whose flavor changes right on the plate, instead of the monochromatic two by four taste bud blasting approach.
