Throne of the Gods

From the bizarre rock formations of Cappadocia we made our way east to the small city of Malatya (population 500,000) to use as a base for our excursion to Mt. Nemrut. We were joined by our new friend, Joel, a hilarious college student from Colorado who helped to keep us entertained.
Malatya is something like the apricot capital of Turkey and we arrived just before the big harvest festival was about to begin. Unfortunately we were unable to stick around and take part in the festivities. No matter how long you are travelling for, there is never enough time to do everything. Our bus landed us in town at two in the morning after stalling out a couple of times en route. After our first choice hostel was full, and our second choice turned out to be too expensive, we settled for some dumpy pension next door and crashed.
The next day turned out to be more simple and successful. In the morning we located the tourist information office and grabbed a tour that was to make it's way to the mountain in a few hours which left just enough time for breakfast (by the way, have I mentioned that Turkish breakfast is cucumbers, tomatoes, crumbly white cheese, a hard boiled egg and tons and tons of bread?).
About an hour into our trip up the winding mountain road to the hotel we would spend the night in, we began a conversation with a lovely family of five (four year-old Mohammed, six year-old Reem, and nine year-old Zaineb and of course their parents) who were also on the trip. Turns out that they are Iraqi and currently live in Baghdad. The conversations that followed were interesting and revealing -- of course we had a lot of questions. The most memorable remark made to me by the mother, Niran, was that there had been days where she left her home and walked over body parts. We all know it's going on, but it really drives it home to meet and speak with someone who is living through it. She said she preferred the previous regime even though she did not like Hussein. "At least it was stable" she said, "and we didn't have this." She was a pharmacist (and her husband a doctor) but had to close her business for fear of being killed now that Sunni and Shia'a Muslims seem to have turned against eachother unlike before. She happened to be Shia'a and her husband was Sunni. The children were beautiful and high spirited and Joel must have taken a hundred photos of them at the summit of the mountain as we waited for and watched the sun set on the western side. When we all said our farewells the following day back in Malatya, Niran's parting comment - - "Pray for us."