Tatvan

The busride to Tatvan took 15 hours. Even after 3 days of no shower, I still smelled better than most of the guys on that bus. Turkish Kurdistan is wild. It's just a mountainous mass of rocky wastes, currently covered by snow. The government is trying to develop the area by building roads and 'modern' housing, but the poverty is staggering. If I had to use one word for it, it would be feudal, with Turkish army outposts standing like castles on top of the occasional mountain. Yes, the atmosphere is very tense, with armoured cars and heavily armed patrols everywhere. While the Kurds here are settled, you can still see traditional dress, even among the men, who wear colourful shawls around their heads.

Upon arriving in Tatvan I missed the minibus to town and decided to walk. Walking past the school a bunch of students came out to say 'hello,' inviting me to the school. I first declined, but soon it became apparent that I couldn't. So, 15 minutes later I was 'teaching' the English class. 15 minutes later, the girls in the class were telling me that I was better looking than Brad Pitt and asking me to come and stay at their houses and whether I'd considered converting to Islam (hint, hint). I diplomatically had to refuse. Afterwards, some of the students walked me to a cheap hotel.

That night, Düş Sokağı Sakinleri, were playing in town - excellent Turkish folk-rock... a mix of Nick Drake, 'One More Cup of Coffee' Bob Dylan and Sigur Ros. Ended up hanging out with one of the students, Sevda (love), and her cousin Irfan (knowledge) a local journalist. Top people.