I love Turkey and I

I love Turkey and I love Morocco but I hate their toilets. About two hundred years ago a man named John Crapper invented this thing called a flush toilet. God bless him. I really can't thank him enough.

Unfortunately this contraption has not been culturally accepted in Turkey or Morocco. Rather than sit down, use toilet paper, then flush, they prefer to squat over a tiny hole in the ground, wipe with their left hand and hope the piss goes down the drain. Call me ignorant, but I just don't understand.

Meghan has the whole process down to an art but I have been struggling for approximately three weeks now. For some reason or another I can't get it right. This has forced me to ''hold it'' for as long as I can possibly stand. I can usually last a good twelve hours, but then I gotta go... and after drinking tea and water for twelve hours, there is a hell of a lot of pee that needs to come out. To put it nicely: when the piss comes, it really comes. It comes as such rapid speeds that I might as well forget about aiming for the two inch wide hole in the ground. My bathroom experience usually ends with wet feet. Fortunately, there is a faucet in the ''toilet''. They use it to wash their left hand and I use it to rinse off my feet. As for going number two, forget it. We've been in Morrocco for ten days, my stomach is really starting to hurt and I could really use a new pair of shoes.

Accommodations

Spain used to be a deal. All the partying I can handle plus more for a matter of a few pesetas. Now the euro is around and prices suck. Our hotel room in Malaga cost $35. This may not sound like much for a hotel, but consider the fact that we've been spending money constantly for 3 months and consider even more that we're used to paying $7. $35 for a bed pissed me off.

We decided to stay at the bars all night and left our luggage in a moderately safe random place. But it's hard to stay out all night when you're sick. (cough cough... I felt miserable.) Around 11:30 we saw a nice hotel and I was so tired I would have paid anything.

We stood at the front desk for a minute but the lobby was bustling and no one helped us. Then Erin walked to the elevator. I followed. We went to the top floor and found two comfy chairs. We wanted blankets so we searched for a maid's closet... We found better. The room marked 'privat' was unlocked and after we dragged the cushions in we had a spacious bedroom.

We slept soundly until the door opened in the morning. Someone turned on the lights and saw us. They apologized, turned them off again and left. We figured it was the perfect time to leave but we weren't quick enough. When we opened the door half the staff was waiting for us. What the hell could we do but smile and say, 'hola.'

We tried to scurry down the stairs but they escorted us in the elevator. We smiled a lot and apologized for not speaking Spanish. When the elevator opened in the lobby I saw a pot of coffee and stacks of cups. I tried for a cup but apparently coffee is only for guests who pay for their rooms.

Free Penis for Sex

As I.ve mentioned before, there are no price tags in Turkey. Vendors gauge how much they think they can get from you then make up a price on the spot. We bargain, bargain, bargain and end up finding killer deals, but sometime it.s exhausting.

We got a good deal in Cappadochia. We were shopping at a displaced souvenir stand on the side of the road and had our eye on a couple statues of a Turkish hero whose penis is bigger than his body. Every coffee table should have one.

Some jackass vendor tried selling the statues for $20 each. Then he added: "The original is free." We tried to bargain but he wasn't having it. He kept asking why we wanted to pay money when we could get the original for free. I told him there was no way in hell we were having sex with him but he kept pressing. I even said it loudly to embarrass him in front of other tourists and vendors. It didn't work. We realized we weren't getting anywhere so we walked away.

We walked about 10 feet before the jackass chased us down. Somehow we were surrounded by five vendors and the 'sit on my dick' deal was still being offered. We asked him if we could get the statues for $3 each if we took the original for free. He started drooling. We had a deal.

He wrapped the statues in newspaper and put them in a bag. We told him the name of a hotel we weren't staying at and said we'd meet him in the lobby at 11:30. He gave us his phone number. Uh, sure. We never gave him the $6 we agreed on. We just took the bag, kept walking and made sure we were no where near the hotel at 11:30.

No Turkish Delight For Me, Thank You

The other day in Cappadocia, Meghan and I rented motorbikes. (By the way, screw you again, Kadir's.) The guys we rented them from were particularly nice... particularly nice to rent motorbikes from, not hang out with. They wanted to take us out for drinks and we arranged to possibly meet later that night. We didn't intend to hang out with them but they either ran into, or searched for us on the street later and dragged us to the bar. They weren't annoying or pushy (as most Turkish men are) so we let them buy us drinks. The situation would have worked out perfectly, one for Meghan, one for me... perfect, had we been remotely interested in that type of thing.

When the bar closed at 4:00 a.m. we were ready to go our separate ways but then they threw marijuana into the situation. Meghan isn't much of a smoker but I am. I decided to spend another half hour with the guys, get high and go home. Meghan's guy tried repeatedly to hook up with her and when she declined and went home, wasn't too happy. The guy I was "supposed" to hook up with got pissed off that the "plans" were ruined and bounced too.

I was left with the guy who had been talking to Meghan all night. And as he was "designated" for Meghan, I figured we could just be friends and hang out. Unfortunately, I don't understand Turkish and didn't catch the trade off of women the two guys made in the hotel. So there I am hanging out with this guy getting high and he tries to kiss me. Hell no, was my response. I asked him if he was kidding and what the deal was... I was talking to his friend the whole night and here he was trying to hook up with me. He said: "But, one is the same. It does not matter if it is me or my friend, one is the same."

No, one is not the same... and in this case one is equivalent to absolutely nothing. I explained to him that i was not going to hook up with him and I only came along to get smoke. If he wanted he could take me home right then. He apologized for his advances and we continued a very pleasent conversation for a good twenty minutes before he tried hooking up with me again. You have got to be kidding me. On the ten minute ride home he tried approximately three more times. Was this a joke or something, because I wasn't laughing. He tried to convince me that I needed to try different tastes. He said Turkish jiggy jiggy was different from every other boy in the world. That's great, too bad I didn't care to find out.

give me a break

I would like to take a minute to vent over the complete double standard of guys sleeping with girls and girls sleeping with guys. If a guy has sex with a girl he exchanges high fives with his friends, earns flags and trophies, and is considered a stud. However, if a girls sleeps with a guy she is condemned as a whore or slut or possibly worse. Get real, guys. Where would you be with out us... probably fucking each other or walking around with your dick in your hand all day. And further more, sleeping with someone does not make you a slut. Sometimes we exchange high fives too.

Me and Iran

I have met a lot of people in Olimpos. One guy from Iran was particularly scary. I really enjoyed talking with him but he was very forceful and I didn't know how to handle it. How do you communicate "no" to a man who thinks women have lesser value? He didn't treat me poorly but he wasn't asking my opinion on anything. You come here, I go there, we do this. No questions - more like a series of demands. I never acted interested or kissed him, hell, I wouldn't even let him hold my hand. I don't know where it came from.

He somehow found my tree house. It took me two days before I could find my own tree house, so I am baffled how he managed to do it after dark during the three minutes I was actually in my tree house. He must have somehow followed me... but that doesn't explain how he was able to find it again and wake me up in the morning. He wanted to buy me a cell phone. I said no thanks. I've managed to go this long without needing a cell phone, why start now? And more importantly, I don't like using people. And even more importantly, the only person who would have my number would be him.

Stray Dogs

There are a lot of wild dogs roaming around the streets of Eastern Europe and they scare me. I really like dogs, but I have to know they won't bite me first. The other night in Romania I was walking down the street with a dog I had made friends with. I was petting him and telling him how nice he was. Then we passed another dog who barked and growled at me. I said, "You're the reason I don't like doggies." That really pissed him off because he started barking real loud and called all of his other dog friends over. All of the sudden I was surrounded by a dozen barking dogs. Dogs are smart enough to sense fear, so I tried to stay calm. I don't think I fooled them... but I did manage to walk onto the slightly populated sidewalk and they grew tired of barking. Once on the sidewalk I realized I was surrounded by packs of men. I noted the striking similarities between the dogs and men and didn't know which was safer.

on the road...

If you're traveling, check out Global Freeloaders.

Also, stay away from the Let's Go travel series. It sucks it sucks it sucks it sucks it sucks it sucks - it is absolute rubbish. Let's Go is the biggest waste of paper you can find in Barnes and Noble. Try Lonely Planet or ANYTHING ELSE.

Dining Out

When eating in a restaurant in Romania there are a few things you should be aware of. Most importantly, the prices on the menu mean nothing. They are either for decoration or for Romanians but definitely not for you. Despite what you order and how much it's supposed to cost there's a good chance your bill will be the three times that amount. The waiter will claim the price on the menu is per portion, not the entire plate, and the small amount you just consumed was actually six portions.

Unless you are fluent in Romanian or have some knowledge of French chances are you won't know what you're eating and its probably better this way. Last night, I ordered cow stomach soup, a Romanian specialty. The waiter assured me it was wonderful and that I would really like it... he lied. I'm not a picky eater - I've even eaten out of trash cans - but this soup was like bile. It reminded me of mornings I'd like to forget (probably mornings after I ate out of trash cans). The waiter was nice enough to offer me something else, then charged me for both. He also charged me for the three pieces of bread I did not order or eat. The bread was approximately $0.25, but still. Apparently, stealing is justified because the tips are small... and they have to make a living somehow.

While enjoying your meal you'll probably be offered various performances and trinkets by people on the streets. Some of our favorites were the lottery (which we won...hell yeah, we are $0.30 richer...only $47,999.70, until we break even!), the bird that picks fortunes, the drunk lady with the accordion, and the little boy handing out pictures of religious figures. We assumed the little kid with the religious pictures didn't make too much so we splurged $0.30 and got one, only to find out that everyone in the restaurant did the same. The kid made bank... why can't we get jobs like that?

When your bill comes be sure to check the prices and make sure its correct. If for any reason its $20 for a bowl of soup, tell them. If they tell you you ate seven portions of soup pay them for one and leave. They may chase you down the street, demand more money and even threaten to call the police. Do what we did and give them your name, the name of your hotel and room number and insist they call police. Chances are they will give up. We haven't heard from them since.