More Anatolia Congress
I really lucked out with my conference roommates. I swear these guys were the funniest people ever. The funniest was from Bulgaria. His English wasn't too good, but this guy had an unimaginable wit and sense of humor that rivaled that of Anchorman. With his broken English, he could poke fun, or spit out a joke that sent our entire room into an uproar of belly laughter; and for you that know me, having multiple people replocating my belly laughter can be quite a scare.
Friday was Turkish night, complete with Black Sea dancers and another siting of the Turkish marching band, Mehter. This band, a replica of Ottoman style military bands, gave quite a show. I was interested to find out that the Greek delegates walked out of the show last year in silent protest. Talk about a long f'n grudge!
My utter laziness began Saturday morning upon strolling out to the pool at 11:30 AM to take care of an emergency. As I explained to the chair of the congress, that emergency was called, White Skin. All lathered up with Martin family sunscreen, I sat at the pool, swam, and witnessed sketchy Russian chicks for hours. All in all, it was a good day. Just a little sunburned, but I didn't care; I had finally gotten ride of my tan lines from Brazil. Yes, I went to Brazil a year and a half ago.
Saturday night kicked ass. It was many people's first global village, so all I did was sit back and watch. I remember my first global village in Brazil, and it nearly ended in disaster after tasting booze from over 10 countries. All I had Saturday was some Bulgarian and Serbian delight. We had a regular party after the Global Village, and of course, I lost in boat races on the first round. I never really know how this happens, but I always manage to get in with some slow drinkers and end up losing to some group like Spain or Turkey. Psssssh.
Around 3:30, the party closed down, and someone had the great idea of going swimming. Swimming + booze + foreigners = skinny dipping. Yes it was cold, and it was the Marmara Sea, but it was hella fun. Finally fell asleep close to 5 o'clock.
On Sunday, I grabbed more sun, and my final lunch buffet. We all made it back to Istanbul just in time to see Zidane unleash a Mortal Kombat style Finish Him move on the Italians. Soccer's beginning to look more like hockey every World Cup.
Friday was Turkish night, complete with Black Sea dancers and another siting of the Turkish marching band, Mehter. This band, a replica of Ottoman style military bands, gave quite a show. I was interested to find out that the Greek delegates walked out of the show last year in silent protest. Talk about a long f'n grudge!
My utter laziness began Saturday morning upon strolling out to the pool at 11:30 AM to take care of an emergency. As I explained to the chair of the congress, that emergency was called, White Skin. All lathered up with Martin family sunscreen, I sat at the pool, swam, and witnessed sketchy Russian chicks for hours. All in all, it was a good day. Just a little sunburned, but I didn't care; I had finally gotten ride of my tan lines from Brazil. Yes, I went to Brazil a year and a half ago.
Saturday night kicked ass. It was many people's first global village, so all I did was sit back and watch. I remember my first global village in Brazil, and it nearly ended in disaster after tasting booze from over 10 countries. All I had Saturday was some Bulgarian and Serbian delight. We had a regular party after the Global Village, and of course, I lost in boat races on the first round. I never really know how this happens, but I always manage to get in with some slow drinkers and end up losing to some group like Spain or Turkey. Psssssh.
Around 3:30, the party closed down, and someone had the great idea of going swimming. Swimming + booze + foreigners = skinny dipping. Yes it was cold, and it was the Marmara Sea, but it was hella fun. Finally fell asleep close to 5 o'clock.
On Sunday, I grabbed more sun, and my final lunch buffet. We all made it back to Istanbul just in time to see Zidane unleash a Mortal Kombat style Finish Him move on the Italians. Soccer's beginning to look more like hockey every World Cup.
posted by amartin4 at 5:50 AM
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