Harran Today I'm off to see the beehive houses of Harran. It's a rather touristy expedition, but I don't have the energy to tackle Urfa for an entire day, nor is there much else to see. I originally planned to get there on my own using local transportation, but Aziz persuades me to have him take me there. The fact is, I could probably get to Harran and back at a fraction of what he's charging me, but he told me that I'm probably his only source of income for the month or even winter. So he's pulled the old sympathy card that works so well on Westerners like me, just like all the Gypsies with their kids successfully begging me for money in the bazaar. We jump in Aziz's "Urfa-mobile", a white Renault that almost everyone in Urfa owns. Aziz pumps up the Kurdish tunes to annoyingly loud and we're off. Kurdish songs sound quite different from what we're used to hearing - there doesn't seem to be a distinct verse, chorus, bridge, etc. - just a continuous melody. I listen to a lot of music and hate to stereotyope, but it really does sound the same - the music in Aziz's car and other songs I hear on the streets all seem to use the same guitar riffs and fast hand drum beats. I can't even tell when one song ends and another begins. Oh well, Aziz seems to like it a lot - I wonder what it look like if people boxercised to these songs? The road to Harran is the worst I've been on here in Turkey. Work is being done to expand the road, but in the meantime, the road's surface consists of poorly paved gravel dotted with numerous potholes. Passing the larger, slow-moving vehicles on this part of the road is an art form. As we near Harran, I see horse-drawn carts populated with Kurds in colourful, traditional clothing. Now I'm left wondering - is it their real way of life (they really seem to be using the wagon for transportation) or is it a tourist draw (the colours are more vibrant than what everyone else is wearing in Urfa). I'm leaning towards the tourist draw, given a few English signs (which are absent in Urfa). However, I am the only tourist here today. Our first order of business is to visit some archeological sites. Some parts are inaccessible due with barbed wire fences, as the dig is still in progress, but the main draw is the ruins of an old university, which we enter after bypassing some sleeping "archeologists" wasting the hot day away in a tent. According to Aziz, Harran was a significant city in ancient history, with several different civilizations living here at different times. Harran is a very old place, in fact, one of the oldest continuously inhabited places on earth, and I vaguely remember it being mentioned in the Bible. For its age, the university ruins are in pretty good condition, particularly the intricate carvings on the fallen columns. From here, we walk into the beehive house part of Harran. The inhabitants say it keeps them cool in the summer. It's funny - the mud huts look simple and rustic, and yet they have electricity and some cable hookups. We walk to the large ruins of a castle in the middle of town. It's not much to write about, though the cavernous hallways are pretty cool. Speaking of lost civilizations, signs of the end of the tourist season are all over. There is a cafeteria at the top of the castle. A sample row of beehive houses for tourists to venture into is more or less a shop. A beehive house resident tries to invite me into his home, but I turn him down, as I know he will try to charge me for the visit, just like some old women who tried to charge me for taking their picture. I really can't say Harran is worth a visit, though I really do regret not taking the picture of an adorable Kurdish girl who wandered into the castle to say hi. It was such a great shot that I think I'll be banging my head over it months from now still. On the drive back, I ask Aziz why everyone drives the same white Renault. He tells me that the car is reliable and cheap, and the white keeps the car cooler, which I assume isn't outfitted with A/C. Aziz also misinterprets my question, and asks me if I can drive stick and would like to drive his car. Turkey has a road accident rate 3-5 times higher than the rest of Europe, but in all fairness, I've seen worse driving in Thailand and mainland China. The drive is surprisingly fun, and it's really cool to be driving through the ancient, winding streets of Urfa. I wander back into the market to give it another try before being quickly overwhelmed by the chaos and stares, and return to the park for a break. There I sit it out feeding the carp until the prayers signal that the fasting is over and the city becomes much quieter. I grab some peynarli to go, return to Aziz's place for a Kurdish dinner on a floor blanket, and call it a day.