I know all you readers out there are just dying to know whether I got my prints sent off for Cracow. Well, Seray – bless her heart – was able to get Latife’s printer up and running last night and printed off my entry form – hallelujah – which she presented me with at breakfast. I had a hair appointment, so I didn’t linger over my meal but ate and hopped on my bike for the ride down the hill to the kuofur hair ladies. The two women running the tiny shop speak no English so Meral had told them yesterday what I wanted and I was hopeful that things would go smoothly.
The shop has two little stations and one tiny sink – no hair dryers, as I realized halfway through when I was wondering why my hair was taking so long. Usually, hairdressers in Vancouver put me under the dryer to speed things up but dryers do not exist here – neither hair nor clothes dryers. Everything is air dried. Periodically one of the women would ask me something in Turkish which of course I did not understand; they’d them repeat it a couple of times louder and louder, as if that would make a difference … why do people do this, I wonder? I’ve seen it before in Italy and Mexico. After two hours in the chair I was released and happy with the hair. Back at the ranch, I went down to the studio, filled in the Cracow forms, packed up my prints in the large plastic plumbing tube, and got into Ilknur’s car for the trip to the post office. Thank God that little chore is over … no problem with the tube and it is now winging it’s way to Poland, I hope. I had a couple of other things I wanted to print so we went to the internet café, where, once again, they could do nothing for me. After trying my flash drive on several ports, none of them could read it and I could print nothing there … damn. Just as I was about to get really annoyed, Seray’s boyfriend happened by. He is a computer guru and works just around the corner at the municipal office so he was kind enough to print out my two documents on his computer without any problem. What kind of an internet café does Gumusluk operate anyway? (Note: I wrote this comment when I was grumpy)
After a cup of tea with Ilknur, I rode my bike down to the beach to sit for a while enjoying the very brisk wind and watching two wind surfers try to control their craft as they screamed around the bay. On the way back, I stopped at several fields to cut more Queen Anne’s Lace for my assemblage. I did not realize that these enormous white blooms each have a small bluish-purple flower in their heart. I had always assumed that the dark speck at the centre of these flowers was a bug and thought it curious that every bloom I saw had such a bug … some of the blooms did also have real bugs, too. Queen Anne’s Lace here grows huge and appears just as the korek are turning brown and dying out. Almost all the wildflowers that populated the fields and road sides early in May are gone; only daisies and sardunya are left. It’s too hot for the others.
I worked on my still life in the afternoon and then joined Ilknur, Meral and Eda for dinner under the trees. We dined on manti (Turkish ravioli with yogurt and garlic), bulgur, rice, a vegetable stew and a compote of cherries, all of which was delicious. As we ate the animal chorus began; the braying donkey sounded as though he was in pain, and a host of male dogs howled after a female in heat, including Paki, our resident young unneutered male. The lonely bull bellowed in sympathy – this beast roams the hills just below my room and moans at all hours of the day and night. After dinner, I took some pictures of my variation on the theme of Queen Anne’s Lace as the sun set.
See pictures here.