The Camel Man

When I was a child I would day-dream about being an astronaut, climbing trees with monkeys, and finding a princess on a cloud. As these dreams fade and my waking life starts to seem like a fantasy, I see that our juvenile wishes are not the only things that can bring us joy in adult life.  Being an easily distracted youth my restless thoughts were constantly wondering. Now as a young man my restless travels take me wondering into experiences that even the creative mind of a child would not draw up. I never will walk on the moon, but I did spend a hand-full of days living the gypsy life.

You need two things to be a proper gypsy, one is a head wrap and the other is animal companions. During my time learning this life-style I put much effort into befriending a camel. Over five days I grasped tightly to the opportunity to help my gypsy friend take care of his animals and learn his way of life. The whole experience is an outstanding chapter in my book, but with the camel especially I have developed a story. Here is the flip-book version...

She is not so willing to let a new guy get too close 

You will learn to keep your distance; her size is quite intimidating

With time she will let you share an intimate moment with her 

Although this does not mean she won't quickly change her mind and try to take a bit

If you are lucky her Dad will let you ride her

But there is still a risk she will try to throw you

After a few dangerous conflicts with the camel I grew to fear her, so when she invited herself into the human living space I could do nothing but offer her some bread

The only one she will be obedient for is, Gorhan. Gorhan, The Camel Man has been traveling his life along The Silk Road, the gypsy way. He goes about in a fashion that some can not imagine. He travels with a donkey, a cat, a hawk, goats, dogs, chickens, and a quail. Of course the camel too, who pulls his "camel-car" in which he sleeps and carries all of his possesions. He lives off the resources of the land as much as he can, all organically. He is a living inspiration for anyone interested in traveling or living with sustainability.  
Fresh goat's milk and honey soak his mouth each morning, but even out-side of society a man does not find complete bliss. I spent many hours listening to parts of his tale and I see that as he becomes more of an aged man the struggles of his life on the road come out through his physical health and attitude. Although he has faced many difficulties and finds his situation less hopful it is clear that his journey has lead him to be more spirit than man. 

"to live is to travel, to travel is to dream, to dream is to live"

No Meat-Meet

After a super-naturalist stay, living in caves, Jebadiah had a few ideas swelling like a tide through his head. "Slow-travel" was one train of thought that moved him to make a change in the way that he journeyed. Starting now, he proceeded with his transit without a rail, bus or plane ticket; he proceeded with his transit by means of auto-stop. With his feet on the road, he shinned like the glorious day that it was. He made one stop and then another. In his third success, an eighteen wheeler, he found himself laying horizontal in the cabin's sleeping accommodation, while his current and temporary companion sat upright in the passenger seat of this gas -guzzling-transport-machine. In this surprisingly restful hitch,  Jebadiah and Ash rolled through any doubts of  a failed hitchhiking experience. With this ride they avoided hours of thumb-aching on the side of the road and completed 320 kilometers into their desired destination- Ankara, the capital city. 


As Jebadiah was assuming the position of laziest, kicked-back, trucking through the heart of Turkey he contemplated another thought that he had while roasting a fresh pepper over an open fire outside his former cave abode. A meatless life? Although he had a few qualms surrounding the issue, in his mind he had made the decision of trying the style of vegetarian. 


In Ankara, Jebadiah and Ashlei were greeted by a one-two punch of a hospitality. The combination was a mother-daughter duet. The expectation of warmth from Alya and Ayse was fulfilled physically, emotionally and in Jebadiah and Ash's stomachs. 
Jebadiah's interest in both eating and preparing food drew him to watch Alya, the mother, work her way around the Turkish kitchen. Through a secret recipe for orange cake and a well known one for a savory pastry, Jebadiah wondered when his newly decided consumption habit would be put on trial. He had a full day without a meat dilemma until a bed of rice supporting an arrangement of fish in a flower pattern came out of the oven, smelling delicious for dinner. At this moment Jebadiah instantly replayed all the events leading up to his denial of eating animals. 
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While having a late morning walk through a valley of cave art and artifacts just a week before, another companion who abstained from all animal products ironically said, "Oh, if only I ate meat," as a wild goose walked by. "Shoot, I couldn't kill that bird and I love eating carcass!"  Jebadiah said as he relived a scene from his past when he had participated in the killing of a chicken. Jebadiah's mind replayed a highlight reel of this memory.  Images of one piece of poultry hanging upside-down by bound feet, a dangling-broken neck, flapping wings, desperate squawks, and a slow stream of blood pumping the last bit of life from its veins flooded his conscious. A mental light paused him from continuing his walk.  Out-loud Jebadiah proclaimed, "If I am disturbed by the killing of a chicken, I definitely can't fulfill the task of slaughtering anything breathing for food."  
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Now with Jebadiah's attention back on the fish at hand, he scanned his memory for any traumatic first hand fish murders. Coming up empty, he soothed his doubts and enjoyed the perfectly seasoned and spiced fish right down to the last tail-fin. "Maybe just a pescatarian,"  Jebadiah said to Ash as she gave a smirk towards his weakness.  


Jebadiah has a habit of meeting people on the road and using their references as momentum towards finding intriguing opportunities that need seizing. It is through this channel of receiving knowledge that he had directions to a small hillside village that was  "worth-visiting." This tip came from a pair of French nomads who lived out of a tractor-trailer. Their mobile-home was fueled by recycled cooking-oil, was well-furnished and burned wood for warmth inside. The couple gained experience by personally exporting vehicles into Africa; therefore, their recommendation was coming along with a feeling of well traveled knowledge. 


After one last homely breakfast with Alya and Ayse, Jebadiah and Ashlei kissed the pseudo-relatives good-bye and were on the road again. On route to the village, Seyhamami, Ash and  Jebadiah found humor in a taxi drivers discouraging remarks towards their refusal to pay for his service. "You are heading towards a cold remote place and you will be in danger of execution if you walk there," they guessed as the meaning of his Turkish warning.  


Safely and easily the pair of comrades caught a ride to their destination.  The village was three buildings, six homes, and nine times the amount of live-stock compared to humans. This pin-point sized town was deeply submerged in a valley sorrounded by three-hundred and sixty degrees of emerald mountains sparkling with winter's frost. Just as directed to expect, Jebadiah and Ash found Durson Dundar at the center of it all. This grey man seemed to be colored-in when he saw the faces of the travelers. Jebadiah understood Durson's enthusiasm better when Ash introduced herself. Ash, Jebadiah had learned, was similar to the Turkish word ashk, meaning romantic love. Upon mistakingly hearing the young angelic woman call herself "romantic love," Durson formed a cheeky expression and his face reached a bright shade of rose. It was clear that Durson was a lonely man and just the presents of Jebadiah , and mostly Ashlei, was bringing him pleasure.

Durson is the owner of the only business around- the hamam, the Turkish style bath. He was proud of this establishment and took Jebadiah and Ash to enjoy a gender divded bath. In the hamam a low framed wooden door opened to reveal a dark passageway streaming with a flow of fog.  Jebadiah stripped from his cocoon of dirty clothes on his way down the corridor and unfolded himself into a soothing, hot, browned-water pool. He glided through the liquid that was visibly lifting directly from the earth, up between the stony floor, to fill the container. The mountainous area's thermal springs created a most authentic humidity and sustainable heat for this natural sauna. Jebadiah viewed the scene from the back corner of the bath and gave his attention to it as the pulse of the traditional Turkish Bath thumped its beat.  


The water rippled to it's limits finding form in the Islamic architecture. The steam reluctantly became independent as it lifted in a cloud from the water. The domed ceiling's windowed center let the past noon's light weave through the vapor; the floating moisture expanded its molecules and played with the reflection on the bath's surface. The quartet of water, walls, air and light mingled together, slightly swaying.  Jebadiah gracefully hummed a gospel song to test the acoustics before a voice joined the performance singing a different tune.  Jebadiah yielded to the Turkish lyrics of his host, Durson, who sung a wooing melody.  The song echoed into Jebadiah's perception and his creative intention began to tingle.  Jebadiah withheld from developing the tickle of inspiration to let the poetic moment sink deeply into his excited senses. Now, like the steam, he felt his own molecules separating; his body was loosening beyond its solid state. 


Like waking up from a dream, Jebadiah suddenly found himself out of the bath, dried, clothed and sitting with Durson and Ashlie in the living space of Durson. The high from the bath must have let him suppress the torment of leaving the soak. In a haze from the transition Jebadiah passively watch Durson roll, light, and pass a large cigarette. With this, Jebadiah subtly melted into his seat and Durson began to fill the table with food. None of the fruit, cheese, bread, nuts, or chocolate really caught Jebadiah's eye. However when one platter was uncovered his attention was held. It was smoked, spiced, savory-red-meat.