You’re invited to be a turkish fly on a wall, just for a few minutes – humor me. Imagine five groups of five Americans of various ethnic backgrounds, ages, and outlooks on life and leadership, scurrying through a Spice Market – Amazing Race style – looking for the next clue to lead to the next clue that circuitously wound around bins of fabulously orange paprika, deep ruddy red curry, comfortably sweet cinnamon, rich and spicy nutmeg.
Up countless side streets and alleyways. Turkish salesman called out “what can I get you today, what do you want, I’m sure I have it just for you.” We dipped and dodged everything from Persian rugs, hand painted ceramics, stacks upon stacks of brilliantly colored scarves, to shops armed with shotguns and ammo, fatigues and camouflages, and temporary lean-tos displayed fresh basil and thyme, budding geraniums and sweetly scented daffodils. We counted 238 ceramic bowls, tested the difference between Iraqi saffron and the lesser version, and carried a hot cup of tea through masses people without spilling.
We learned how to say “hello, thank you, my name is” and quickly caught on to the importance of asking for directions. Two guys in my group did ask for help-impressive.although I smelled the brewing of the bean, I had to forgo a cup until later. When the race was completed I treated myself to fresh orange and pomegranate juice, delightful.
I’m sure if you were a fly on the wall you’d make a few observations, and I wonder what they’d be.