Civilized Sunni/Secular TURKEY is Taking in Wounded Palestinians

TURKEY-MIDEAST-CONFLICT-GAZA-HOSPITAL-ERDOGAN, originally uploaded by pinkturtle2.

Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan (not in the photo) speaks with a wounded Palestinian man in Ankara, on January 13, 2009.

Some Palestinian wounded people are now being carried to Ankara (Turkey's capital) for treatment.

More to follow (as soon as is possible) with cites/links. Because right now, and you'd better believe it, we are busy, bloody, busy.

In the meantime, we're sure that those who read here regularly and have the time and/or inclination, will use their initiative and 'give google a good go' - since our personal physical handicap, since birth, of having been born with only a single pair of hands, is increasingly taking it's toll on us.

All of which -- may make it awfully apt to once again ask for some volunteer, part time co-posters @ This Old Brit' blog.

For those who don't yet know our email address, please use the email link on our profile page.

Later.

Iran, Nukes, America, Petrol & Bush:The True Tale Of The Wise Old Turkish Water Taxi Ticket Tout ...

The time:
Far off in the mists of a fortnight ago.

The Place:
'Land of Lights', ferry boat & water-taxi terminous, Fethiye quayside, Fethiye Bay, Mugla, Turkey, Asia Minor -- to mention but a few.

"Sod this," sez we, standing sizzling & sweating under the searing scorching sun.
"Let's ask if we can sit on that spare seat in the shade of the (open fronted), wooden shack of the old ticket seller while we wait for the ferry."

Then ... thereby hung this tale.

"English?" the elderly easterner enquired.

We told him we were.

"No problem. You very welcome."

He beamed as he beckoned and bade us sit beside him.

"Look," he said, and pointed to the old portable TV he was watching.

"American. Here. Ankara. Capital. Now. Today."

In spite of the pretty pathetic picture quality and seemingly, similarly sick sound system, we were soon able to see and hear that what he'd said was so.

It was one of Bush's blatant big fibber flunkies (we've forgotten already which one, but wtf anyway), doing what his arrogant awful ilk do best.

Talking a lying load of tripe-twaddle through his white plastic looking teeth. Oh, yeah, and the great goof of a goon had 'good hair' too. But being what and whohe was, he would have, wouldn't he? Well, don't they all;besides John Bolton?

Heh.

"Iran," the old fellow announced. "Nuclear, nuclear, nuclear. Bush crazy man want more war. Says Iran nukes, nukes, nukes. Iran, no nukes. No, sir.

Iran, petrol! Iran, petrol, petrol, petrol!"

"Exactly, " we exclaimed in agreement, and at this point were beaming as broadly as the super-sun-tanned, old Turkish ticket tout/seller himself.

He went on. "Bush lies, lies, lies. Ha! Yes! Every peoples knows. All the peoples everywhere knows. NOT Americans. American peoples believes George Bush."

Can you imagine it? Finding such an unexpected (foreign), kindred spirit? And so far away from home? Someone else who hadn't drunk the cool aid? Another old man who knew better? Somebody else with some sense?

Then the smiling ticket seller suddenly switched to smirk mode.

"Iran, not Iraq," he said. "Iran, big space. Iran, 160 million peoples. Iran, big military. Iran, stronger Iraq. Iran, no scared Bush. Russia help Iran."

The more the man said the more he made our day. Even all the way over there in Asia Minor we weren't alone. We weren't the only ones. We weren't simply a single small voice in the wilderness.

The old Turk continued.

"Me Turkish. We Turkey. We near Iran. We no problem, Iran. Me no problem, Iran. Me no scared, Iran.

America not near Iran. Bush, not near Iran. Bush, problem Iran. Bush want petrol, petrol, petrol. Iran, no nukes. Iran, petrol, petrol, petrol.

Big, big problem -- all peoples problems. World's peoples problems. Because, Bush crazy man."

Then, the ferry finally turned up.

We shook hands. He smiled again. He slapped our backs.

"Maybe meet again. Tomorrow. Enjoy holiday. Enjoy Turkey."

We thanked him. We called him 'old friend'.

Then we stepped aboard the tiny ferry boat and set sail for Calis beach -- on the far side of the breathtakingly beautiful Fethiye bay.



** We didn't see the old ticket seller the next day, by the way. But we did see, smile and speak with our newly found 'Old Turk' friend several more times during our stay. And the most genuine marvelously memorable times they turned out to be, too.