Still no answer from anybody at hospitalityclub.org. The PC at the hostel does not let me register at coachsurfing.com. I don't want to wait for hosts just to be able to stay in the city. I have come to see the country. I am driven East.
I am directed to the Fatih Sultan Mehmet bridge as a good point from where to hitchhike. In the tram on the way there I meet a maths teacher from the US who did his PhD in educational policy.
'School schedules in the states are all dictated by industrial lobbies' he tells me.
'This leads to uniformity across the country and a strong tendency to Computer and Internet based school work'
He attended a conference of mathematicians where he was the odd one out, causing quite some commotion among the members with his messages.
Some minutes after we part I meet a young couple from the US. They teach English in Erbil, north Iraq, and tell me that you can earn a fortune doing this. They are travelling through the middle east, all of which is payed by the organization. They take anybody that can speak English and pay for wherever you want to go for your vacation.
At the Bosprus University by the bridge, a security officer gives me a fat black felt tip marker with which I write the name of my next destination on a large peace of cardboard: Bolu. At the highway leading across the bridge a man driving a small truck reads my sign and picks me up. He says he is from Yugoslavia and is working in Istanbul. We agree on a mode of communication: he speaks basic Russian, I Polish. He calls his brother who speaks some more Polish; the brother translates while we pass the phone back and forth and the truck swivels across the highway.
We stop at a bus station by the highway. The driver gets out with me, tells me to take the small bus that is just pulling up and pays for my ticket. He wants no money back. The bus goes to Gebze in the east of Istanbul from where I can hitchhike more easily towards Bolu. We drive for one hour at least, through the ugly, smelling, industrial outskirts.
I sit at the front. Money is shoved into my hand over my shoulder. I am to pass it on to the driver. The bus is ram-packed. Money circulates freely from hand to hand to pay at the front. It is normal that the driver gives change in 5 minutes time. It works perfectly, not a word is said. Only the number of newcoming passengers is named with each batch of coins making its way to the front. I love the people.
I get out at Gebze and an older man and two younger boys almost instantly flock around me. They direct me to the next bus that arrives in 3 minutes time. It brings me to the Gebze coach terminal. I leave the idea of hitchhiking for now. Coach tickets are affordable.
I meet a man in his 40's, Fatih, who helps me buy a ticket; English is not spoken at the 15 or so bus company offices.
'Men and Women are equal according to the Qu'ran. There is not one word written about the headscarf' he says
'Why do women wear it and why are some even sentenced to death when suspected of adultery in some Arabian countries? Because most people simply don't read.'
There are countless additions made to the Qu'ran I learn. The holy book itself is untouchable, but what is often preached in the mosques are excerpts from these additional writings, which were authored some 300-400 after Mohammeds life. I am reminded of the first Nicean council, some 300 years after Christs death, in which among other things, the teaching of reincarnation was taken out of the Bible. Fatih pulls out a fat book from his bag. The young author, Burak Özdemir, writes about Mohammeds original message and how it relates to the eastern notion of Karma.
The coach arrives in Bolu late in the night. A friendly man drives me from the coach terminal to a cheap hotel.
I am directed to the Fatih Sultan Mehmet bridge as a good point from where to hitchhike. In the tram on the way there I meet a maths teacher from the US who did his PhD in educational policy.
'School schedules in the states are all dictated by industrial lobbies' he tells me.
'This leads to uniformity across the country and a strong tendency to Computer and Internet based school work'
He attended a conference of mathematicians where he was the odd one out, causing quite some commotion among the members with his messages.
Some minutes after we part I meet a young couple from the US. They teach English in Erbil, north Iraq, and tell me that you can earn a fortune doing this. They are travelling through the middle east, all of which is payed by the organization. They take anybody that can speak English and pay for wherever you want to go for your vacation.
At the Bosprus University by the bridge, a security officer gives me a fat black felt tip marker with which I write the name of my next destination on a large peace of cardboard: Bolu. At the highway leading across the bridge a man driving a small truck reads my sign and picks me up. He says he is from Yugoslavia and is working in Istanbul. We agree on a mode of communication: he speaks basic Russian, I Polish. He calls his brother who speaks some more Polish; the brother translates while we pass the phone back and forth and the truck swivels across the highway.
We stop at a bus station by the highway. The driver gets out with me, tells me to take the small bus that is just pulling up and pays for my ticket. He wants no money back. The bus goes to Gebze in the east of Istanbul from where I can hitchhike more easily towards Bolu. We drive for one hour at least, through the ugly, smelling, industrial outskirts.
I sit at the front. Money is shoved into my hand over my shoulder. I am to pass it on to the driver. The bus is ram-packed. Money circulates freely from hand to hand to pay at the front. It is normal that the driver gives change in 5 minutes time. It works perfectly, not a word is said. Only the number of newcoming passengers is named with each batch of coins making its way to the front. I love the people.
I get out at Gebze and an older man and two younger boys almost instantly flock around me. They direct me to the next bus that arrives in 3 minutes time. It brings me to the Gebze coach terminal. I leave the idea of hitchhiking for now. Coach tickets are affordable.
I meet a man in his 40's, Fatih, who helps me buy a ticket; English is not spoken at the 15 or so bus company offices.
'Men and Women are equal according to the Qu'ran. There is not one word written about the headscarf' he says
'Why do women wear it and why are some even sentenced to death when suspected of adultery in some Arabian countries? Because most people simply don't read.'
There are countless additions made to the Qu'ran I learn. The holy book itself is untouchable, but what is often preached in the mosques are excerpts from these additional writings, which were authored some 300-400 after Mohammeds life. I am reminded of the first Nicean council, some 300 years after Christs death, in which among other things, the teaching of reincarnation was taken out of the Bible. Fatih pulls out a fat book from his bag. The young author, Burak Özdemir, writes about Mohammeds original message and how it relates to the eastern notion of Karma.
The coach arrives in Bolu late in the night. A friendly man drives me from the coach terminal to a cheap hotel.
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