A Magic Carpet Ride



The "big" one

Some people collect art work, beanie babies, antiques or stamps. We collect carpets.   With this in mind, Glenn and I went to Istanbul with an extra suitcase and the idea of buying a new Turkish carpet.  Glenn owned two rugs when I met him and during his last deployment I flew to Dubai to meet the ship for Christmas.  As a Christmas present to ourselves we bought a carpet together and then he returned from his deployment with another one as a gift for me.  We both love our carpets and against the advise we received, we brought ours  with us to Albania.  After all, what is the point of having nice things if you don't use them?

While we knew we wanted to add to our collection we had never discussed the specifics of what we were looking for.  A specific size, color, and design were all up for grabs.  We figured that we would know the right carpet when we saw it.  Having a full four days to find the perfect carpet, we set out on our first morning in Istanbul to play tourist at the local sites.  During the short walk between our hotel and the Ayasofya we saw several carpet stores displaying their wares.  We looked but out of the fear of being accosted by aggressive salesmen, we didn't linger.

Outside of the Ayasofya we were approached by a local man offering to serve as our guide in the museum. The enticement of being able to bypass the long line led us to accept the proposal that we would normally decline.  The guide was surprisingly well spoken and as our tour wound down he offered to take us to a "special place" for tea since we were friends. We were not one hundred percent sure what we were getting ourselves into as we followed the guide down increasingly narrow streets in Istanbul's Suleyaniye neighborhood. When we abruptly stopped in front of an unmarked storefront I had my doubts but I quickly understood our destination when I saw the rugs lining all of the surface areas.  Small and large, silk and wool, brightly colored or subtly abstract the place was filled with nothing but carpets.

Following some rapid fire Turkish, an entourage of well dressed men escorted us into an elevator which swept us up three floors where we were led into a discrete, but well appointed showroom.  Offers of drinks quickly ensued and we opted for Turkey's famous apple tea.  As we sipped our first cups of tea we braced ourselves for the sales pitch that we knew was coming.  The pitch was delivered as one part sales and one part education with repeated reassurances that we were under no obligation to buy.  The differences between knotted and woven rugs, and wool, cotton, silk or a combination of materials was demonstrated and even the most untrained eye could notice the difference. 

Under the direction of the store's manager, carpets were rolled out on the floor by a series of silent men. Our most subtle actions were observed and reacted to.  I'm a horrible poker player and the minute I had the slightest negative reaction to a rug the carpet was whisked away and replaced with a new one.  The quality and size of the carpets increased with each new one that was rolled out before us.   As the time wore on the whole experience became increasingly overwhelming with beautiful colors, ornate patterns, and materials becoming an unrecognizable blur.

By the time we were drinking our second cup of apple tea, we had narrowed down our selections to a few beautiful carpets.  They were unlike any of the rugs we currently owned and I was surprised that I found myself really liking them.  Up to this time there had been no mention of cost.  (Discussing it later, Glenn and I both knew that we had narrowed our choices down to some of the most expensive carpets in the store). At this point the rug buying dance became more interesting.  Glenn first broached the subject of cost and a number for our preferred rug was thrown out.  We knew it was just an opening offer and Glenn quickly counter offered with a question of currency.  We were talking Turkish Lira, Euro, or American dollars? All were accepted as was cash or credit.



The "little" one

I never realized what a haggler I had married but Glenn's back and forth offers were impressive. With each new rug came a reassurance of how special it was.  Offers became counter offers that were met with polite refusals and explanations that they too needed to make money.   We knew they would be making plenty of money so the dance continued.  At one point the rug rollers brought out a carpet that we were told was in our price range.  It was one of the ugliest things I had ever seen and with just a raised eyebrow on my part it quickly disappeared. 

Our proposal to pay in cash with Euro and take the carpet with us reduced the cost slightly but not enough to satisfy us.  And so the danced continued with more back and forth on both of our parts.  When it appeared that we had reached a standstill the manager's "uncle" was brought in and with feigned reluctance he proposed a slightly lower offer for the one rug we were looking at.  Glenn said we'd take it if they also included a second, smaller, but even more beautiful rug.  (Two for the price of one!  How I love a great deal).  It was now the uncle's turn to act insulted and to reassure us that they were already offering us a great deal since it was "before the cruise ship season" and after all, we were friends. (Before our trip to Istanbul I never knew we had so many friends).  More polite counter offers ensued before the entire deal reached a rapid conclusion. 

For a few additional Euro our offer for both rugs was accepted.  Within minutes hands were shook, the carpets were rolled up and packed into their own carrying bags, and we were whisked into another room to complete the paperwork.  Glasses of raki were brought out for the men and I was offered my third cup of apple tea.  Soon we were back on the sidewalk with our museum guide lugging our carpets down the street. The sight of our new purchases made us prime fodder for even more aggressive carpet salesmen who shouted to us from their storefronts telling us that we needed to see their even better carpets.  After all, they told us, we were friends and they would give us a great deal.  No, even for us carpet lovers, two new carpets are enough for a single trip.  Besides, we need to save up for our return trip to Istanbul.  We already have several carpets in mind but need to figure out where we will put them.

Raki

Every country seems to have a national drink and in Albania that drink is raki.  For those who have never tried it, raki is akin to good old American moonshine and the process for making it is similar.  (A more in depth history of raki can be found here).  I was first served raki on a rooftop deck in Arlington by Albanian friends of ours. I knew I was in trouble when I could smell the drink coming my way before I could see it.  I disliked it immediately and even Glenn only managed to drink a sip or two out of politeness. To me, raki tastes like rubbing alcohol with an after burn that just stays with you.  

When we arrived in Albania we were "fortunate" enough to find several bottles of raki that had been left in our house by the previous tenants and we have already been gifted with more bottles than we will ever drink.  (Being frugal, raki makers often store their potion in recycled water bottles.  If you see a water bottle with a broken seal in an Albanian refrigerator, be suspicious of its contents!).

Albanians are serious about their raki.  People will have grapes growing in their yards for the express purpose of distilling raki.  Men brag about the quality and taste of the raki they produce and insist that you try theirs since it is "the best there is".  (Fortunately for me, women aren't expected to part take in the tastings and I'm quick to opt out when the opportunity arises).  Meetings start with raki (regardless of the time of day), meals end with raki and for good measure, raki chasers accompany coffee.  In restaurants, raki may be brought to the table before or after meals (or if you are really lucky, both) by owners eager to share their version of this national drink.

To be fair, I have tried an occasional sip or two- usually out of Glenn's glass since I don't want to "waste" a whole glass on me. Some of the raki has been better than others but that is to say that the after burn doesn't last as long.

Fall is prime raki making season.  This past weekend we were invited to an Albanian family's house to watch the raki burning process. Yes, that is what they call it and I find it a wee bit ironic since that is what the raki does to you.  

The cauldron is sealed with a flour and water mixture

I'm not sure what I expected but the scene was everything I had imagined  a stereotypical Albanian experience would be.  An assortment of friends, neighbors and relatives were standing around in the backyard of a half finished house.  A makeshift still was perched over a fire.  The grapes had already been fermenting for some time so their mash was ready to distill.  The cauldron was sealed with a mixture of flour and water .  Once everything was in place a fire was lit and under the watchful eye of the adults, the children fed the fire with twigs, leaves, and the occasional tree limb.  All there was to do was wait.  And wait.  Actually, the wait was only an hour- during which time cups of raki were passed around.  After an hour a trickle of raki ran into the cup that had been placed at the bottom of the distiller.  

Here comes the raki

The trickle was slow but it kept coming.  It flowed on for several hours after which the process was repeated to ensure that the raki was "extra smooth".  Fortunately we didn't stick around to watch the  raki drip into the cup all afternoon.  We went out to a neighborhood "restaurant" where we had an Albanian lunch that lasted for hours.  Upon arrival at the restaurant we were taken on a tour of the chicken coop.  The meaning of the tour escaped me until our lunch arrived and it was fresh roasted chicken. The meal was delicious and accompanied by all of the traditional Albanian foods that seem to be a part of every dining experience in this country.  And yes, there was raki involved for those who chose to partake.  And we even got to take a water bottle filled with raki home with us.