I’m confused— it’s still February, and yet it’s been sunny and warm for over a week, maybe even two weeks. We’ve had temperatures which rival those of summer in some countries, and I’ve even been tempted to go down to the beach (though I’m certainly not brave enough for sea water yet). I remember a stand-up act from years ago in which a comedian joked “global warming: that’s when the weather’s brillant.” I have to admit, I’m wondering what the cause of all this distinctly spring-like weather is. I’m certainly not complaining; Antalya’s gorgeous when the sun is out.

The above photo was taking by my friend Uğur, who is a very talented local photographer— you can check out his amazing work here.

Summer’s on its way, folks.

You know, even though it’s still February I’m convinced winter is on its way out. Today was warm and sunny and there were quite a few new vendors, so of course that means there was also some fresh Turklish.

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My only surprise with this one is that they left out “department,” which is usually an obligatory word for these sorts of nonsense shirts.

Cool sweat, dude.

This is a kid’s shirt… yikes for the thousandth time.

Okay, how many of you aren’t picturing something dirty involving Lynda Carter?

Incidentally, the last part says, “high entertainment times of fun.”

Never kite surfing in congested areas— so I guess I-45 at rush hour is out of the question.

Make up your mind, which is it?

I’m not sure if that’s a command or what, but in any case I’m probably sure it shouldn’t be on baby pants. But of course that’s exactly where it is.

If you look closely, that’s not a B… it does in fact say “no rack door.” Where I come from, a rack door is just a bra that hooks in the front. [Insert your own lovely puppies or Lynda Carter joyride joke here]

I almost never laugh out loud when I’m at the bazaar, because I don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to myself, but this… this got the best of me. It’s a baby’s shirt. Sorry that’s all I have to say about it, but there’s simply no caption I could write that would beat “the last show in brown town.”

Incidentally, if anyone would like to purchase anything from the bazaar, past or present, just let me know and I’ll see what I can do. There’s different stuff every week, but there’s also a lot of overlap, so if there’s something you saw here and want me to keep my eye out for, just shout. See you guys tomorrow.

I actually saw this a few months ago, but was randomly reminded of it today as a fantastic example of mis-translated English from elsewhere in this part of the world— via Reuters:

Something always gets lost in translation, but usually not an entire city.

A sightseeing brochure, originally published in Hebrew, contained the phrase “Jerusalem. There is no city like it!” When it came time to do an English-language version of the flyer, however, that phrase appeared as: “Jerusalem. There is no such city!”

Israel’s Maariv newspaper reports that tens of thousands of the flyers were distributed before city hall realized its mistake.

Link to Reuters story

This week’s bazaar is a cut-n-paste extravaganza. I seem to be noticing more and more shirts featuring huge blocks of of the English version of Lorem Ipsum, clearly pasted in from some web site or other and then modified somewhat. I can’t imagine what the modifications are for— at first I guessed it was hopes of avoiding copyright infringement, but come on, when has that ever been an issue here? In any case, have a look at these and tell me what you make of them.

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First off, in honour of yesterday being Valentine’s Day, here’s a shirt for the lovers. And what sweet sentiments— friendship, love, fashion, girl, happy, volotre, intact. All desirable traits in a woman. Well, depending on what “volotre” is.

Okay, let’s ease you into the cut-n-paste stuff. This one’s not too bad. It says, Adventure… On and n. name Trying importables Yaching in Animal instinct Huhamastant. Far awantage Geanhagu forever and eber. Adventurous Where Adventure Wild have tree Jungle Tall tree beach terns. Animal instinct… wait, did I say it was not too bad? Well, wait for the others before you judge.

Yeke & Yek Sports Wear by o.w. unpe.

Louisville, Kentucky – Moments after the two mammoth colts, Point Given and Congree, irned in blistering workouts and brought o life the barn arca at Churchill Downs, John Dowd removed his baseball cap, lubbed his head and gave up trying to be laconic Kentucky Derby trainer. He sputtered that he has a pretty good iorge named Songandaprayer who is rather big too: 17 1/2 hands (1.75meter high and 1,205 pounds (547 kilogram This has got to be one of the dee.

Plzz give us a lovely break from all this reading. Whew.

Right back into it: this one’s all over the place. I wouldn’t even know where to start with transcribing it. You’ll just have to look at the large version and see what you think.

Repley Sportwear Make blueland: followed and rose to the wind. end a merry a meeting Our ros dreadful so matches a to delightful rose a asnrain mused anr brng up for with octrious wreaths and Our ob. And that’s just the first paragraph. The rest is worth a read, though, if you have a look at the large version of the photo.

Flowers have a largedir of their own. Flowers wpire thisangs. love. passion. happyness. Flowers are mood mederators with their fragrance. Flowers may mear a feeling you are feeling at a certain time. Got it?

Oh, my head hurts now. Whatever happened to simple Turklish like this?

Happy much that it’s time to lie down.

This from Frederik Samuel— I haven’t seen these myself (probably because I don’t do much inter-city driving), but apparently these trick billboards exist along many major roads in Turkey. The billboard itself is an ad for a national bank’s “pay your traffic tickets online” service, and then below and slightly behind the billboard is a life-sized cutout of a police car. The approaching motorist slows down because he thinks a cop is hiding behind the sign (as Turkish traffic police often do). Clever, but I’m not sure how effective an ad campaign it is for Türkiye İş Bankası. Link

More from the world of the weird-and-funny bazaar— I’m a bit pressed for time this week, but I still managed to find some good stuff. Enjoy!

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Someone got their finger stuck on the J key.

In fact, there were so many Js that a few spilled over onto this shirt.

Don’t you want to know how we keep starting fires? It’s my large intencity.

“The sun is warm The Sky is ciewr the natures louch is soft like breezrs.” Sounds more like one stoned sport, and judging from the look of that kid I’m not too far off.

I think it’s French for “I dare you to buy it.”

It’s a little bit poetry, and a little bit… not.

Ah, crazy from wanted— I think we’re all familiar with that, gorgeous as we are.

Go on, we’re waiting…

Sorry to rush off like this, but I gotta go follow my follow my. See you guys later.

I was never a fan of tea. Where I grew up (South-Central Texas), “tea” means that syrupy, icy concoction you get at Bill Miller’s barbecue restaurants. Hot tea is available, but in my circle it was mostly associated with getting through illness, and not something you would drink voluntarily if you were in good health. Given the chemical taste of most American teas, I can see why it got that reputation.

Then I lived in England for six years. Tea is pretty much the national sport there. The English can’t get through a one-hour meeting without stopping in the middle for a tea break (you think I’m exaggerating, pfeh). So I thought I might pick up tea-drinking as a habit, but I still found English teas (which are far superior to American teas) to lack something in flavour. Add to that the fact that they insist on drowning their tea in milk, of all things… let’s just say I can count on one hand, with several fingers left over, the number of cups of English tea I have ever been able to finish completely. I was pretty sure at the end of my stay in England that tea just wasn’t my thing. I mean, if you can’t get into the groove in the tea capital of the world, the game’s pretty much over, right?

Well, then I moved to Turkey.

Tea is not a sport here; it’s an art. The first time I experienced Turkish tea was in a restaurant in Kemer where a friend of mine worked. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to it, given my past experiences with tea, but he assured me that this was “not at all like any tea you’ve ever had in the West.” Of course I was intrigued, and combined with the fact that tea in Turkey is served in small, voluptuous glasses that are as sexy as they are exotic— I couldn’t resist trying it.

Wow. This was different. It certainly did not taste processed like American tea, or bland like English tea. It was robust without being obnoxious. It was immensely flavourful and subtle at the same time. It didn’t require milk or three tons of sugar to help turn it into something palatable. I felt like this was the first real tea I’d ever had in my life. I sat there and kept refilling my glass all afternoon.

Since that time, nearly three years ago now, I’ve tried many brands and varieties of Turkish tea. We have our own two-story teapot (an absolute requirement in any Turkish home), and have gone through several sets of tea glasses (they’re delicate little things, and we’re not delicate people). I thought I had seen it and done it and drank it all.

Then a couple of weeks ago we got invited to a friend’s house, and after dinner he served the most wonderful tea I’ve ever had in my life. I had to have some. He kindly gave me some to take home, and I went through it very quickly. The leaves were much larger than the Turkish tea I was used to. The flavour was richer, more aromatic than our regular tea. Turns out it was Ceylon tea, which can be purchased at our weekly bazaar. It costs over twice as much as other teas, but it’s worth it. You make it the same way you make Turkish tea.

I’ll be quick to point out that this is not the same as the stuff in the United States that comes in tea bags and is marketed as so-called “Authenic Ceylon Tea.” The stuff I’m talking about is not made by Lipton or any other tea company you’ve ever heard of, and doesn’t come complete with a fancy marketing campaign. What I’m talking about is actual loose tea from Sri Lanka, authorised by the Sri Lanka Tea Board. And yes, getting the real thing makes a huge difference.

If you’d like to try some Turkish or Ceylon tea, there are many online resources (some more expensive than others) where you can have Turkish tea and tea sets shipped anywhere in the world. I suppose Tulumba is the most popular of these, but a quick Google search can turn up many more. Authentic Ceylon tea can be purchased directly from the Sri Lanka Tea Board’s online shopping service. If you want to make it the authentic way but don’t understand how to used the double-decker teapot, drop me a line and I’ll be happy to talk you through it. Once you’ve tried tea Turkish style, you’ll never drink microwaved milky leaf-wash out of a boring ceramic cylinder ever again.

It appears that the president of World Bank, Paul Wolfowitz, embarrassed himself last weekend due to the custom of removing one’s shoes before entering a mosque. Wolfowitz, who was on an official visit to Turkey, removed his shoes only to reveal giant holes in his socks. You’d think he could afford new socks, given his job. Link

For our first bazaar post in double figures, this week we cross over from funny-ha-ha into funny-weird. Most of the stuff I found today didn’t make me laugh, per se, but it did make me squint and wonder. As always, here are my favourites.

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Now, I am familiar with the phrase “first flush of youth,” but… this doesn’t say that. It’s more like the courtesy flush. And it’s dripping mossy sewer weed. Or something.

I couldn’t decipher the top part, and only got a bit further with the road closed bit.

I think this is advice we can all live by.

Ok, here’s what I’m getting out of this one: there’s a pseudo-YMCA logo at the bottom (sort of); there’s the seal for the ever-famous University of California – Y.com, whose school motto is “we have change the game performance”; there’s the word CONTENDER at the top. If that’s not completely clear, let me know and I’ll try to explain it in Sanskrit, and it will probably make the same amount of sense.

I can’t think of anything I’d rather have printed sideways on my shoulder than “these words, have many word mantra mantra is a single.”

Ha, Pooh’s been demoted to “Bear.”

So exclusive, it’s just for all. Incidentally, a lot of shirts I see at the bazaar have the word “department” on them somewhere.

It helps if we start at the bottom with this one… the bagde-looking thing says “9 stations American ball champions 1993,” and now that you’re thinking about balls, consider what a “different shape national meeting” might be.

They were so close with this one. It appears to be a Halloween-themed shirt (never mind the timing; Turks have never heard of Halloween anyway and don’t care when it is). I get the “scary spider” and the “tric or treat” (we’ll forgive the spelling), but what the hell is “wan bino”? I swear if that shirt had been available in adult sizes I would have bought it. Wan Bino is my favourite holiday.

I’d love to have this shirt if only to make it my official air travel uniform.

I’ll be back tomorrow with the usual bits and pieces. Have a great evening.