Diyarbakir

 Will Work for Travel, Will Travel for Work

John's job often takes him from home.  It first took him from us when he suddenly had to move from Idaho to Texas, leaving us behind to pack up and sell our life in Idaho.  He often works week-long or more jobs in far off locations and stays away in hotels, making his best effort to visit us, or we him if possible.  Once he accepted a job in California, which was supposed to be a week, but extended to 6 weeks. 

This time we decided he would accept a job that was not only a rare opportunity and a privilege, but it was a good money maker.  He immediately requested a week off to spend time with us, which was our trip to Corpus Cristi; but once we were back, we quickly repacked and a few short days later he was leaving for a 21 hour flight into a whole different culture.

His first layover was in Houston then, although he was to go through Germany, due to some last minute rerouting went directly to Istanbul.  He was eager to visit the famous ancient city which borders both Europe and Asia,  but his flight to his final destination pulled him away from the exciting city too quickly.

The final destination was Diyarbakir ( dee-YAHR-bahk-EHR ).

Diyarbakir an ancient city, inhabited from the dawn of time and is now the second largest city in Turkey with a population more than 1.6 million.  The main language spoken is Turkish and is one of the few areas with an openly Kurdish population.  The alphabet although Latin derived, only hints of familiarity.  The region is 99% Islamic, but the country allows freedom of religion.  Civil strife has been present in the area, but it is currently a peaceful region despite the city being a mere 2 hour drive from Syria, a country in turmoil.

John and his workmate were eventually taken to their hotel where they were housed in nice rooms
overlooking a town square and were with other workers from around the world.  They had an introduction to the job, which would be outside the town, and safety guidelines while visiting the area,  Then they were told they would have to be tourist (paid and housed) until the equipment arrived and the job could start. 

The first thing that was glaringly obvious, was he knew nothing of the language.  Most of us know a few essential phrases in Spanish, German, French, Japanese and the like, but Turkish didn't adopt any of those rules.  He learned evet is yes and hayir is no, but beyond that he relied on his Google translate which proved to be a lifesaver.

As per advise, he chose to not travel by Taxi, but go as far as their (his coworker and himself) feet would take them.  As in most cities, the majority of residences were in the upper floors,...

...but at street-level were rows and rows of shops with no rhyme or reason.

There were shops with commercial cookware, jewelry, clothing, food and the like.

So much silver!!

A bağlama or saz.

A side street suddenly turned into a blacksmith alley where men forged tools from glowing red metals.

I had given John strict orders that despite his work schedule, he MUST find the city walls for me.  I had read so much about them in preparing for his travel, it would be a pity for him to miss out on them.

The city had traded hands over the centuries from Sumerian, to Median, to Hittite, Assyrian, Roman, Persian,and finally the Muslim Arabs.  It holds many antiquities from those eras, but the wall has been there for unknown ages, some books claim 1500-2000 years BC.  It is known, however, that Constantine restored the walls in 349 AD to their current glory.  There are 'walls of black basalt forming a 5.5 km (3.4 mi) circle around the old city. There are four gates into the old city and 82 watch-towers on the walls....the walls of Diyarbakır are the tallest but the second longest city walls in the world after the Great Wall of China.' - Wikipedia

Upon approaching the city walls, he found it not a gated off oddity, but rather a part of daily life with men perched atop eating their lunch and children climbing among the rocks.   He wanted to see from the top and asked for the steps.  People all pointed.  In front of him was a piling of rocks, worn away with age.

The wall on the left is part of the stairs.

 He precariously climbed the steps and reached the top with great triumph, only to notice he beyond his ascension spot was a clean, newer stairway poured to make it safe for residents and tourist alike to climb.  On the up-side he gave the locals a laugh and walked in the footsteps of many great men, no doubt.  Although unable to transverse the entire wall, he walked to the banks of the Tigris, explored towers and enjoyed the city and it's history.  

As with most travels, his days were filled with great food, and street food was one of the best.  Long skewered meat layered with spices and vegetables and giant kebabs cooked in front of patrons; served with moist rolls and all the fixings for a few dollars each.

Often tea was served as a side, but it would not be served  by the owner, but rather men with ornate silver and tasseled thermoses strapped to their backs would come from a nearby location to serve you from their gun dispenser into real dishes....No Styrofoam here.

The breakfast buffet at the hotel was not your traditional Western fare.

And for dinner, he often went to the restaurant in front of his hotel where he enjoyed well prepared meals with elaborate appetizers and deserts included, all for around $8/person.

Finally the tourism ended and the job began.  He was transported to the site where they were housed in shipping containers, thankfully transformed into nice little accommodations. 

The work-site was was patrolled by armed guards possibly due to the strife-ridden nations around them.  It seemed they were erring on the side of caution or their strategy worked, since there was never a hint of a problem.  The job was a relatively easy one, despite the hiccups that come with working so remotely and under foreign circumstances.

As soon as the job ended they were whisked away, first to Istanbul...

...where he took a few hours to enjoy a bit of the city,  then layovers in Frankfurt, Germany and Houston, then home again.  Unfortunately the last stop in Istanbul left him with a horrible stomach bug and he endured the rest of his journey and the next few days home quite sick; sometimes the price paid for travel.

He was gone for 45 days for a job estimated to take 2 weeks. Although the job extended longer than the original estimate, we've learned to expect delays since the jobs have so many elements and are easily delayed. All three of us handled this time apart better, as we were prepared for it to be longer.

The entire time there he found the locals to be welcoming, helpful, friendly, and he felt safe everywhere he went. Overall he would do it again, and I for one am so happy he had the opportunity, although I felt a little green with jealousy.  If he could choose to visit Turkey for a more leisurely tourist trip; he says he would love to see more of Istanbul, and again visit a less traveled destination such as Diyarbakir, to have a true taste of the region.

Oil, Oil, Oil Everywhere

I don't know if I never paid attention or if it's a common misconception, but I always thought oil is only pumped in few and far between places, it seems I was wrong.  Out here in the Permian Basin, you don't see an Oil Derrick, or Pump Jack as they're called around here, you see fields full of them as far as the eye can see. There are pumps in the middle of neighborhoods,  on lots between houses, across the street from apartment complexes,  and I even saw one in the median between the on-ramp and the highway.  There is one just west of our front door; about 500 feet away.  To get an idea; in this link here of a satellite photo of our trailer park and surrounding areas, you can see each white square is a Pump Jack station and that's what is close to town! Every drive we take I hear Zoey declare from the back seat, "There's a pump jack, doing it's work!", and there's a lot of work being done to get us more of that precious oil.

Drilling Rig by the road.

There are power-lines cris-crossing the desert to power the pumps which are painted in various colors and of all sizes.  Alongside the pumps are many natural gas pumping stations often surrounded by chain-link fences.  The little fire stacks you sometimes see in oil fields are to burn large amounts of Hydrogen Sulfide (H2S), which is a lethal toxic gas in high qualities.  In the rural areas, like the town of Goldsmith where we started, you often smell H2S in the air, which is the same as that rotten egg smell at geysers and natural hot springs. 

Not only is the large presence of Pump Jacks shocking, but the ongoing oil work. In a drive of only a single moile you are likely to come across a drilling operation, a wireline/fracing operation and a pulling unit at work; not to mention the surveyors, engineers and other people whose work is not so visible. Oil work is everywhere and it's constant.

The drilling operations look as if they have set up a large amusement park ride.  There's a drilling tower, large platform, and numerous support buildings the size of train cars.  Some of the larger units look like mini Eiffel towers and  take seven days to move from location to location.  When operating at night they look like pillars of light illuminating the desert.

Drilling Rig at Night

The wireline/fracturing operations have a wireline crane extending above a large circle of semi-trucks loaded down with massive engines which pump the thousands of gallons of water from a man made reservoir which is created onsite. There is a constant grumble of engines onsite which increases to a massive roar as the water is pumped deep into the earth.  These are the crews John works with.

John working under a pulling unit.

Finally is the pulling units which are tall metal cage towers, much like the drilling towers, but supported by multiple wires.  These are used for any operation requiring the lowering or retrieval of items and instruments from an oil well.  When in operation you can see the pulley system moving up and down inside the tower structure.  John sometimes works with a pulling unit crew when the winds are too strong to use only a crane.

I'm sure there are other machines and operations involved with oil production, but these are the ones we have seen and become acquainted with during our short time here in West Texas. One thing is for sure, oil is the reason Midland and Odessa exist and it's keeping the town booming and bringing in outsiders like ourselves.