26 August 2010

One of the most bizarrely beautiful moments of my trip so far...

Sitting on the steps out the side door of a military van in the mountains above Lake Egirdir, at 4 o'clock in the afternoon when the sun is not stiflingly hot but still warm and golden and coming through trees at the perfect angle, on a dirt road between two apple orchards while a military officer, maybe 20 or 21, in full Turkish officers garb complete with green off-kilter hat, picks small purple plums from a tree beside the van, silently sharing them amongst ourselves, neither of us speaking the other's language, waiting, and throwing the pits into the field nearby. No words were spoken, nor did they need to be.

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