Dried Golden Raisins

I'd had a strange impression of İzmir since I'd come here for the first time six months ago, and this impression doesn't really change at second sight. One reason might be that I'm staying again in the dubious district of Basmane, near the train station, with its odd mixture of five star-hotels, cheap fleabags, prostitutes, businessmen and sleazy racketeers. It's easy to make a good deal here, find a cheap hotel room, get a discount - and get horrendously cheated the next second. Life is easy going, people talk openly about the two most important things in Southern Turkey: seks ve eğlence, sex and fun.

The next morning I find Oktay, the crazy Kurd with the thick rings on every single finger of his hands, in front of the travel agencies, having a glass of tea. We'd met half a year ago while I'd been waiting for the bus to İstanbul. He recognizes me immediately, hugs me and kisses me on both cheeks. "Where have you been, my friend? You never called me!"
We have tea at 9 Eylül Et Lokantası. The restaurant's owner takes a seat at our table, eyeing me with distrust.
"Where are you from?", he asks.
"Germany."
"You look Russian."
Here we are again. I'd had situations like this several times since I'd come to Turkey. People here often think I was Russian, and there is this prejudice that every Russian girl works as a prostitute.

To proof that this is not my business I take the small memo that Adam had given me in İstanbul out of my pocket. A friend of his from Algeria asked him to find somebody who could sell him a larger amount of dried golden raisins in İzmir, and Adam assigned me this job.
"Do you know where to buy 13 tons of dried golden raisins?" ask I.
The man's attitude changes immediately. After a short phone call, a visit at the Güzel İzmir Oteli just around the corner, a taxi ride and another short phone call I talk to Necati Bey and his daughter Sinem, who own four large grape fields in Manisa, a 30 mins drive from İzmir. Yes, they run this business for a long time, almost 60 years, and yes, they can sell 13 tons of dried golden raisins to my friend, but not before August. Wow, that was easy.
Back at the 9 Eylül Et Lokantası I have another tea with Oktay and the owner of the restaurant.
"Sorry," the man says. "I'd had a wrong impression. When a girl walks in here we usually don't assume that she wants to find someone who sells raisins."

Another urgent obligation I have to fulfill is the border crossing as my tourist visa's running out. Taking a ferry from Çeşme to the Greek island of Chios is much more enjoyable than walking across the border near Edirne with its barking border officials. I spend the day wandering around on the picturesque island, wondering about the nice, narrow alleys that seem to hold romantic secrets at their ends, but lead literally nowhere. After finding myself dozens of times in front of a house wall or a mesh wire fence I give up and sit under a tree, waiting to get hungry. Strolling through the city centre I think that in terms of traffic Chios can easily compete with İstanbul - crossing the street is similarly difficult - only that here everybody seems to drive a scooter instead of a car. I walk along the seaside and finally decide to have a late lunch and a beer at a smudgy pizza restaurant just next to a noisy, smelling main road before I take the ferry back to Çeşme.

Back from Greece I bring a brandnew visa, a bad sunburn and a bruise on my arm from a toilet seat that decided to fall on me in the bathroom of a tavern. On the ferry Şako takes a seat in front of me and says "Hi". He shows me his passport full of stamps as a proof of his glamorous lifestyle.
"So you're a traveller?" I ask.
"Of course, sweety, I'm a football trainer."
He fumbles around with his mobile phone to show me some low quality photographs. "Look, this is my mansion in Alacatı. I live there alone, by the way."
"Really?"
"Be my guest tonight!"
I shake my head. "Thanks, I've got my luggage in İzmir, and I'm leaving for Fethiye tomorrow morning."
"What a pitty," Şako says. He throws his card on the table and stands up. "Call me if you need something, sweety", as he walks away bursting with confidence.