"What I wanted to do was spend a little time getting to know the third stone from the sun; it has been my home for...years, but I have spent much of it confined in the settlements. I wanted to explore and examine, I wanted to interact –- yes, in the broadest, most spiritual sense, I wanted to go mountain climbing."
Paul Quarrington
The behaviour of the Italian prime minister, Silvio Berlusconi, is once again international news (although he is on the front pages of the Italian papers almost every day). It's not for telling fellow Italians "don't pay your taxes" as he did in a recent interview abroad. It's not for conflict-of-interest charges because he owns several private media stations and also has control over many state ones. It's not for countless corruption, fraud or embezzlement scandals. It's not even for passing a law guaranteeing immunity from prosecution for a prime minister in office. It's something else. For those who don't know, B. has been ordered to stand trial on charges of paying for sex with an underage prostitute. (Prostitution isn't illegal in Italy but sex with a minor is.) There are also disgusting stories of wild parties at his villa with various Italian politicians, as well as international figures, where apparently young women were paraded before the groups of aging men, who were told to "pick one for the night."
Last Sunday, millions of people, but above all women, demonstrated against this excuse for a man and his treatment of women. There were gatherings in over 230 Italian cities as well as others around the world, including Paris and Tokyo. Here are some photos I took at the march in Genova (where approximately 40,000 people showed up).
"in defense of women, let's come out of silence"
just a small representation of the crowd
"Berlusconi, a total mess, goes to whores and is taking the country there too"
interesting juxtaposition, I thought, this very powerful female figure dominating the fresco behind, and modern women demanding rights
"Berlusconi is the man turning Italy into a brothel [complete mess]"
I realized that marches are much more powerful with drums
"if this is a man..."
there are many that say there is something psychologically wrong with him
"there's more than what you see here"; the sign behind reads: they deposed Ben Ali and Mubarak and there's never 2 without 3
what summed up the whole movement for me: this elderly woman joining the march with a homemade styrofoam sign saying "ENOUGH"
It's hard to describe the mood in the air that day. As I left my apartment and joined my friend Daniela, we were joined by two more people, then there were more people behind us, and more in front, and then there were more streaming from every direction down the streets toward the main piazza.
It's not often that I feel the kind of solidarity I felt there, as we swelled in numbers and waited for the march to begin. This unity of purpose within huge groups of people has always been inspiring to me...and yet it took the actions of a truly reprehensible man and his cronies to rouse us from our normal individual Sunday afternoon activities and gather together.
Later, the rain started, but we didn't stop marching. Some even began chanting "Piove, governo ladro!" -- It's raining, you thief of a government!
These ads have recently gone up all over Italy. The gist is, Berlusconi, get lost. You've dishonoured Italy, you don't have credibility, and you've stopped governing. Italy needs to look beyond to grow and have a healthy democracy (I accidentally wrote "democrazy", which perhaps is better). The last part invites everyone who agrees to go online and sign the petition against B. The organizers are shooting for 10 MILLION signatures (one sixth of the population of Italy).
National strike of workers and students for protecting workers' rights, including the right to strike.
This strike is not to be confused with the bus strikes which happen every couple of weeks, which are against -- well, it's hard to get a straight story. Talk to some and they'll say it's because the employees have been without a contract for months. Talk to others and they'll say it's because the employees don't feel like working.
And why should they, if their elected leader does anything but?
After our adventures in Egypt we got back on board and sailed a day and a half to Kuşadası, a small, picturesque but cruise-ship-tourist town on Turkey's southwest coast.
Our guide was a tall, salt-and-pepper-haired Turkish gentleman who was exceptionally courteous. His pet phrase was “ladies and gentleman” and he sprinkled his patter with it liberally. “And now on your right, ladies and gentlemen, you’ll see an excellent shopping area, while on your left behind that Burger King, ladies and gentlemen, is the jewellery street, so as you can see, this is a very good place to spend the afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.”
But his most interesting words were these two: camel + wrestling. Apparently this is a popular spectacle in some parts of Turkey!
(Here are other interesting camel facts. During mating season, male camels seduce potential mates by inflating special sacs inside their mouths and waving them around; and by producing as much foamy, frothy saliva as possible. If you don't believe me, watch this three-minute BBC Wildlife video. It's so disgusting you can't take your eyes off it.)
Our first stop in Kuşadası was the ruins of Ephesus. Actually, it was the tourist market just outside the ruins of Ephesus; my fellow travellers, in full-blown shopping withdrawal (after the disappointment in Egypt - see previous post), swarmed the stalls like a SWAT team on a Mafia hideout.
Once the thirst had been temporarily sated, we set off to explore what was left 2,000 years after the heyday of this once-magnificent city. These ruins were very, very cool.
a pipe
the goddess Nike and my grandma
apparently the public toilets were THE place to socialize and conduct business...
the library
Afterwards I indulged in a little shopping of my own, unable to resist the incredible hand-painted bowls.
I’d always thought that haggling with street market vendors would be difficult and tedious. Turns out it’s fun! Our guide taught us the secret bargaining phrase: "What’s your best price?" He said all we had to do was keep repeating this phrase and the price would magically descend. (As there are practically as many tourists as inhabitants in Kusadasi, everyone speaks English well.)
Well, I was keen to try this out. Who wants to pay a pre-determined price?
However, I don’t think I started well.
At the first store I spoke the special words, and the price did, amazingly, drop bit by bit. I kept repeating the phrase; “the vendor will grimace and groan as if he’s about to lose his shop, his livelihood and his family,” our guide informed us, “but he’ll never give you a price below profit.” This is exactly what happened and so I kept repeating the incantation...
Well, I guess at some point you should stop and accept what’s offered. Eventually he glared at me like he was truly insulted, turned on his heel and stalked off.
Practically all the products were the same at the store beside his, so it was hardly a letdown. At this place the guy was a little younger and a little friendlier...and I did indeed get my bowls at an excellent price.
With this success I was empowered and I started bargaining everywhere! The price can be practically whatever you want it to be – what a heady concept! Imagine if this system existed in our malls.
We also made a stop here.
We thought it would be pretty boring, but they surprised us, those Turks.
Extracting silk thread from silkworms
still using a manually-operated treadle!
I now know, without question, that I NEVER want to be a carpet-weaver!
Roll, roll, roll and FLAP! Dozens upon dozens of carpets unfurled like flags before us, thanks to the hard-working young sales assistants.
surprisingly beautiful grounds for a carpet school!
a lookout point we hit afterward
The other exciting event of the afternoon was that my entire group – that’s my grandma, Lethbridge-dwelling aunt, my dad, his best friend, his best friend’s mom, and my grandma’s sister’s husband’s brother – agreed to try out a completely foreign Turkish restaurant! (Guess the adventurous streak runs in the family.)
The waiters, all brothers or uncles or cousins, were very friendly and explained to our eager ears what Turkish culinary delights we could experience there.
Then we dined on fresh, hot bread and a variety of delicious dips and things.
Just as we’d leaned back in our chairs, patting our stomachs happily, two heaping plates of meat arrived. Telling each other we were “pretty full”, we still managed to make good work of the spicy and delicious kebabs, ribs etc. before us. I have to admit, at that moment being carnivorous felt pretty good.
As our ship was to depart that evening, most of the group decided to head back after the late lunch. But my fellow adventure-seeker Glen and I decided to squeeze every last drop out of our time in Turkey and stayed behind. We browsed pashmina shops, did a little shoe-shopping, skipped the same tacky knickknack shops that exist almost everywhere...and just enjoyed the atmosphere.
As the time to departure began ticking down, the previously-friendly sellers became positively effusive in their last-ditch efforts to make money for the day. Glen and I had picked up our pace, keeping a close eye on the time, and everywhere we went men called to us. Everything half price! Best souvenirs here! Don’t forget something for your neighbours! And my favourite: Your coat’s just arrived, come try it on!
Hurrying through the streets with everyone’s voices on our heels, heading toward the big boat that would take us away forever, made me feel like we were in the last scenes of The Truman Show, where all the characters know Jim Carrey’s name and are desperately trying to keep him from discovering the truth about who he is. (In this case our supporting actors just wanted to lighten our wallets.)
We did make it back to the boat in time (which was a bit anti-climactic). We joined the others on the top deck and watched the very last stragglers saunter back to the ship. Daylight gradually faded. A soul group started jamming on the pool deck below and the lights of the city began twinkling. The ship slowly sailed out of the port, each of us lost in our thoughts as we began the journey home.
