Monday, 21 June 2010
Monday in Milas
When I arrived at the bus stop in the village I noticed the Muhtar go into his office so I thought I would just pop in and ask him about the rubbish collection...again! Mr A informs me that he doesn't recall it being collected since before I went to England. Well that was the 6th May...so you can imagine how it's piling up. It's as well I found something heavy to cover the bin or the smell in this heat would be appalling...even though I wrap all the rubbish several times.
Anyway the Muhtar was full of more excuses and apologies and promises to deal with it. Then along came the bus so I couldn't pursue the matter further and he gave a sigh of relief!
When I was going through some paperwork yesterday I found the receipt for the payment of my postbox in Milas. I had paid for a year but this ended on 28th May. I hadn't received a reminder from the PTT but I thought it would be a good idea to go in and pay again. How many Turkish post office workers does it take to renew my postbox subscription? The answer is three. One to search for the receipt pad, another to find carbon paper to insert in same (yes...they're still using carbon paper here...isn't that quaint?) And a third to supervise the whole procedure. So between the three of them they wrote out all the details again, using my old receipt for information. Man No. 1 said it was valid for a year. Man No. 2 said it was valid for 7 months. And Man No. 3 realising that I was confused, actually wrote the expiry date on the receipt...28th November 2011! "2011?" I asked. "Yes" he replied.
So I have absolutely no idea when it expires...but I only had to pay 3.5 lira so I'll check it out again some time in the future. On second thoughts I'll get Mr A to check it out!
Next stop the eczane (chemist) to try and find Ibubrofen gel. I bought some in England last year. It's wonderfully soothing for my aching back and I like the fact that it doesn't smell of anything. I hate all those anti-inflammatory creams that have a really strong smell. It can be a bit embarrassing on a crowded bus.
I found a Turkish equivalent...although a cream rather than a gel...but the main ingredient was 5% Ibubrofen which is the same as the English one. Well now I'm at home and have tried it, I realise that they have added other things...things that make it smell. It's mostly a lavender smell but there's something else there as well that I can't quite work out. I wonder why the manufacturers feel the need to do this? Maybe it's because the Turks need to smell something to believe it's doing them some good? Anyway I'll only use it when I'm in the house. It will do for now.
I paid a visit to my hairdresser who agreed with me that my roots really needed doing. Even though I ask for the same colour, I get a different shade of red each time I have it done. Today's shade is rather nice though. I like it and have asked him to make a note of it so that it will be the same next time...but I won't hold my breath that this will happen!
It was by now coming up to midday so I made my way to the bus station and got on the bus. A lovely young Turkish girl, from one of the other villages near us, asked me where I came from. When I said I was English she proceeded to practise her English on me. I am quite used to this. It usually doesn't last much longer than "My name is... what is your name?" "Where are you from?" "How are you?....I am fine" etc etc. But this girl did manage a little more. She was so bright and cheerful, I guess around 16 years old. Anyway she reverted back to Turkish and was telling me that her older sister was about to go to university, but that she had decided that it wasn't for her. She just wanted to get married and have lots of babies! I thought what a pity she can't do both. But I didn't say anything because her mother was sitting next to her, and you never know what the reasons are behind her statement. Maybe they can only afford to send one child to university, and this girl just accepts that it won't be her? I don't suppose I'll ever know...but she was so bright that I thought it a shame she wouldn't have the opportunity.
The bus left at 12 o clock for the 20 minute or so journey to the village. However, there was something going on in Milas today. The flags were flying off all the balconies and buildings, and there was a strong jandarma presence. And traffic...lots of it! And we were stuck in it...for over an hour, in a hot sticky bus, with the temps in the mid 90s. I don't know what was happening because it isn't a national holiday as far as I know.
I was sweating of course, along with everyone else. You know that sometimes when you have your hair coloured, there is still some excess colour which comes out after the first wash? Well...my head sweated...and I had pinkish red streaks running down my face. But of course I didn't notice until I arrived home and looked in the mirror. Oh how embarrassing!!