The sky over Ankara had not a single cloud.
I noticed it soon after I started walking. No one looked at me. I hadn't thought it would feel this pleasant.
A hectic morning and a meeting that didn't matter.
Checkout at 11. It was the day to move from a single bed to a dormitory.
I slept until the last minute so it was hectic, but I managed to pack my luggage. Then I joined the online meeting while nibbling the bread I'd bought.
I might have been nervous before. Now I only feel like I hope it ends soon.
When it started, it turned out to be something that could be handled fine by text. Why did they make this a meeting? Are they trying to appear like they're working? The other person's voice trembled a little, so maybe they were nervous. I thought, once again, that I'm sensitive to picking up these subtle differences.
HATAY GURME and smartphone talk
I was hungry, so I went into a kebab shop.
I ordered HATAY GURME. It's something like a kebab combining chicken and potatoes. While I was filming a video on my smartphone of them cutting a large roll, the guy gave a peace sign. The other staff nearby were also laughing. I felt a little embarrassed, but I filmed with a smile.
If I had been carrying a DSLR, would it have become that kind of atmosphere? Maybe because it was a smartphone, they reacted casually. Lately I haven't been picky about cameras; I prioritize being ready to shoot immediately.
To Anıtkabir (Atatürk Mausoleum) under the clear sky
After lunch, I walked to the mausoleum.
Atatürk is the founder of Turkey. This mausoleum where he rests sits atop a hill in Ankara. A 40-minute walk. I decided to walk today.
It was perfectly clear. Just walking felt good.
And I noticed one thing. Since coming to Turkey, no one stares at me. In Georgia and Armenia, people often looked at me—maybe because it's obvious I'm a foreigner—but Turkey is different. You can blend into the crowd and just be there.
This may be a color filter of my mental state. But here I can focus on the present without thinking about Japan. It felt like I could simply be here as myself.
On the way I found a supermarket. Strawberries were 99 lira per kilogram (≈350 yen). Too cheap. I decided I'd definitely buy some on the way back.
A proposal and a soldiers' march I saw at the mausoleum
I went through the security check and entered.
Spacious. Several times larger than I'd thought. Even though it was a weekday, many Turks had come. Tour groups, couples taking commemorative photos. And a couple quietly getting engaged.
The woman was taller and the man shorter. I smirked watching from a distance, thinking 'so it works even like that.' From the woman's expression there seemed to be some emotion that could be read as anxiety or resignation. A proposal in the middle of a daytime crowd—would that really make her happy? If it were me, I'd prepare a hundred roses and a ring and do it in a hotel's private room. I smirked again, thinking romantically like that.
There was also a soldiers' march. A ceremony where they line up regularly in front of the mausoleum and place floral wreaths. It resembles Taiwan's Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall. Everyone was desperately taking photos. The soldiers' shouts were hoarse. Do they do this many times a day? Even on hot summer days. That's their job. They must be proud. But I couldn't help wondering how much they're paid and whether this makes life enjoyable.
And then I wanted someone to take a photo of me. I asked a man sitting nearby.
It was terrible.
He had no sense of composition; the shot made it look like I was crossing in front of the Atatürk Mausoleum. Because of where he stood, my legs looked short. A truly tragic shot.
Two women with model-like figures nearby were photographing each other. At first I was going to ask them, but I hesitated because I was afraid. In the end I asked the man and regretted it.
Lesson: If you're going to ask someone to take your photo, ask someone with a good sense of style who's used to being photographed. They know how to make a shot look good. Next time I'll speak up without being scared.
When I tried to buy water from a vending machine, a system error prevented the purchase. But a stranger passing by asked me, "I don't know how to buy this." Not overthinking everything and talking to the person in front of you—I think being able to do that is important.
44-lira strawberries and chicken İskender
On the way back, I stopped by the supermarket.
There were better strawberries in packs than in the basket, so I surreptitiously transferred some into a pack. In the end the price is only determined by weight, so it's no problem. 400 grams for 44 lira (≈160 yen). The best purchase.
44-lira strawberries.
Further on, I found a tempting diner. Chicken İskender, 220 lira (≈800 yen). I'd had the beef before, but it was my first time for chicken. I also ordered ayran.
What arrived was a big plate. It came with vegetables and fries and was unbelievably large. Thinking it was surely too huge, I still finished it all.
Chicken İskender and ayran. 220 lira (≈800 yen).
When ordering, the staff asked for my name. I told them "Kota," and they wrote it without misspelling. It was such a small thing, but for some reason it made me really happy.
When I got back to the hostel and tried to write in my diary, I was too sleepy and dozed off. A two-hour nap.
It was the first day in Turkey when I felt like I could be just another person, like anyone else.
