June 7th, Cappadocia
Rick Steve tours are not intended to be shopping tours but rather a peek into the local cultural and history. Even with the best intentions, there are grey areas. The next two excursions are optional but the majority of our tour want to visit both the Turkish carpet factory and the Aladdin’s Pottery studio. As a craftsperson and a seasoned traveler, I have seen many such places before and I know that there is always the sales pitch and a showroom visit at the end but I want to go to see process as well as the beautiful goods. Yesterday, Taylan told us that if anyone was interested in buying a carpet to know what size and color they wanted before hand. He also tells us that we should snap photos tomorrow of any we like because the choice will be confusing and overwhelming. I called John and have him measure the floor space in my office. If I were to succumb, I need a 5’ x 7’ carpet. The color is not much of a factor for me.
It’s a short drive between our hotel and the carpet factory. We arrive at the carpet weaving factory just before 11:00 A.M. As obedient students, we sit and listen to our Magic Carpet host as he explains the various materials that can be used and the relative time and expense between cotton on cotton or wool on cotton or silk on silk etc. Two women sit before two looms, meticulously tying and cutting knots as they painstakingly weave their rugs. We move to the silk worm demonstration table and watch another man unwind the silk from a hundred unfortunate silk worm cocoons that have recently been boiled alive to prevent them from hatching and breaking their valuable silk threads. These filaments of silk are twisted together to make thread and yarn. From there the silk is dyed and eventually woven into a carpet.
The educational part of the tour complete we are let to an immense room with stacks and rolls of carpet. We all sit around the room and they offer us Turkish tea, coffee, wine or Raki, a traditional Turkish anise flavored liqueur. It’s not yet noon so Art and I order tea but a few brave souls, Taylan included ask for Raki. The carpet show unfurls. Dozens of carpets are dramatically unrolled upon the floor and our host describes each one carefully but no prices are mentioned. A few of the first ones are kilims, flat woven rugs, not knotted rugs. The floor becomes a vibrant patchwork of color and when I see one carpet I particularly like, I take its photo and do a quick heel to toe measurement. My actions are not unnoticed by the attentive sales crew waiting by the sidelines. The show ends and it’s time for them to get down to business.
I’ve been in sales all my life and imagine the unspoken assignments between each of the sales team. “You Ahmet, take the woman who just took a photo of that carpet, I’ll take that couple in the corner, etc. etc.” It’s a game and a gamble about reading people but this showroom has a lot invested and they need to land a few big fish before our bus departs forever. I show my carpet pusher the photo on my phone and he unearths it from the layers of carpets spread on the floor. It is 5’ x 7’ with an intricate center medallion the colors of brick and blue with a cream background. It’s lovely and I am informed it is silk on cotton. I believe I am prepared to pay up to $1500 + the ambulance bill for Art to be rushed to the nearest hospital with a heart attack. I am subtly relieved when he tells me it is $22,000. It is so far beyond our budget that I laugh and think that I can step out of the game but ‘Ahmet’ is not one to give up easily. “What will you pay Madam? He offers it to me for $17,000. I chuckle again but he counters “Wait, let me show you some other carpets that are similar but less money?” I am simply not interested in playing this game but before I can return to the side lines to stand beside Art, Ahmet has already unfurled a few others. I finally escape to stand beside my husband but Ahmet’s eyes bore into me, following my every move. I avoid eye contact. Several other members of our group are engaged in potentially buying a carpet. I am fascinated and make the grave mistake to walk over to admire the various carpets Paul and Yu-Lin are considering. Ahmet must be a shape changer because every time I turn he is there proffering another carpet. I surrender to the sidelines again and soon enough Art and I spot an escape route and we slink out of the showroom to the safety of the parking lot. Back on the bus we learn that Paul and Yu-Lin purchased a carpet and Allie, purchased several as gifts for her children. We do not ask the prices.
Back on the bus we drive and have an hour to eat a touristy river lunch on our own before our afternoon visit to Aladdin’s Ceramic Workshop.
Our tour begins with a detailed explanation of the process and I watch two artisans at their work stations meticulously painting the ceramics. Before I became a jeweler, I was a ceramic major at University of Redlands and I understand the process and enjoy the simplified demonstrations of the craft. A woman meticulously paints a medusa head on a platter and a man paint detail onto a wine decanter styled from the ancient Hittites. Next, we are ushered into another room where we sit on benches along the wall and shown a kick wheel throwing demonstration. Drink orders are taken and it is now afternoon so many in our group accept wine or Raki. The young man demonstrates the process and expertly throws several pots and then asks if any of us wish to try? I want desperately to get my hands on a spinning lump of clay but I could never overcome my shyness and do this in front of a group of people. Garth, a member of our tour volunteers to try and with some help throws a decent if off kilter vase. He has fun and we all enjoy his showmanship and congratulate him on a pot well thrown. We find out later that his hobby is turning wood on a lathe.
Next it’s the showroom sales pitch which I am dreading. I want to look at all the displays but to be left alone to admire. As we enter, I see the sales crew size us up and divide to catch as many rich tourist fish as possible. I make the mistake of looking too closely at something and a young sales man wearing a green shirt circles in for his kill. It is pointless to try to outmaneuver him but just as at the carpet factory, prices are exorbitant and none of us have any reference as to the actual value of a piece. Art and I tend to collect special shot glasses from our travels and the Turkish shot glass is hour glass in shape. Art picks one up and a split second later has his unshakable shadow of a sales man. The lurking shadows ruin the experience for both of us. I simply want to escape and I try to find my way back to the entrance and I make a wrong turn in the labyrinth of rooms. I manage to slip from the grasp of the green shirted man. For a delicious minute, I am alone in a gorgeous show room but a sales woman soon discovers me and just like in a museum heist movie, I feign ignorance and I ask for directions to the restroom? She points me to the correct corridor and I find myself back in the first room where the craft woman continues to paint her medusa head. She speaks English and without pressure I ask her about the piece? She tells me she has worked a week on the plate and that it is a custom order to the U.S.A. She works from an image on her I-phone. It often takes me days or even weeks to sculpt and original and I work from a variety of photos. I do not work for 8 hours a day but I would feel accomplished to complete her meticulous project in a week. I thank her and exit while I still have the chance. I sit in the showroom garden and wait for the rest of our group to exit. I’m not sure if anyone succumbed to a piece of pottery but we board the bus and return to our hillside cave hotel.
We have this late afternoon and evening to ourselves. Art and I rest for an hour and then decide to walk into the village. Several from our group are gathered in the courtyard enjoying glasses of wine from the hotel bar. We tell our friends that we are going to look for a bottle of wine in the village and Kathy enthusiastically calls to us and asks for us to buy a bottle for them too! We walk the few short blocks to the village center. There are several cafes with a scattering of occupied tables spilling onto the sidewalks. We walk past a few tourist souvenirs shops and disappoint the merchants by passing quickly by leaving only a smile. Finding a market or liquor shop is more challenging but then we spot a tiny market with a soda case outside and I spy several wine bottles sitting in the dusty window. The shop is tiny and therefore crowded. A man is buying cigarettes and a few kids beg their parents for sweet and salty snacks. When our turn comes, we point to the dusty window display and to an upper shelf where we spot a few other dusty bottles. Art, in his best Turkish, conveys that we want a cold bottle of white wine. The merchant sets several bottles on the counter and we shop by label and price. Naturally, the bottle with the hot air balloon label wins our vote and it’s the same price as the others with less attractive labels. Miraculously, the man has two of these chilled and we pass our 1200 lire over (about $32) and leave the tiny shop triumphant.
Back in our hotel courtyard we hand our prize over to Kathy and then Art and I sit contentedly alone on chairs outside our room and sip our wine before walking back into the village to find dinner. By the time we walk into town the restaurant where we hoped to eat, it is full so we choose an upstairs restaurant next door. We sit with several others from our tour and enjoy a reasonably good lamb stew cooked in a sealed clay pot. The waiter cracks the pot open and divides the contents between Art and me. We meander slowly back to our luxurious cave hotel and fall into bed exhausted.