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A soft summer breeze barely rippled the surface of the Black Sea, cooling the June heat of a Turkish summer. It was market day in Samsun, Turkey - a city of about 100,000 on the southern shore of the Black Sea in North Central Turkey. Tanned, slim, with black hair and a pencil-line black moustache, brown eyes - the American passed easily for a native Turk. That is, until he spoke, because his command of the Turkish language was practically non-existent.
It was June, 1966, and he had only been in Turkey for about a month, having been sent from his base in Germany to help set up and test new equipment at the Samsun listening post. The route to Samsun was circuitous, from Frankfurt, German to Incirlick Air Base in Adana in the south to Trabzon in the extreme northeast and finally to Samsun. Interestingly, he had translated for the American pilot at the Trabzon airport. Interesting since the he spoke no Turkish, the Turk at the airport spoke no English; however, both he and the Turk spoke German - so they squabbled over the cost of a postage stamp in German. A Comanche Indian from Anadarko, Oklahoma and a young Turk haggling in German over the price of a stamp!
He had taken the bus from the American base to the city square downtown, the only American on board. Acrid smoke from the strong Turkish tobacco filled the air, burning the eyes, causing involuntary coughing. The square was crowded, mosty men, very few women. After all, this was Turkey in 1966 - but it could have been Turkey in 1066 - not much had changed. The few women present were dressed in black from head to toe, and upon meeting a male, the veil automatically went up.
A small crowd began to gather and to the slow beat of a drum, the men began to dance. Again, only men, since this was man's business. The dance began slowly, then the pace quickened, but he could tell that the rhythm and steps had not changed for a thousand years. He felt as if time were standing still as he realized that Turkish men had been gathering in this very market place for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. He felt the antiquity of the place and stood in awe at what he was experiencing. He returned to the American base with a new sense of respect for these citizens of a country which was old when his own was not yet discovered.
All too soon, his mission in Samsun was over. New equipment was in place, operators had been trained, and his return trip to Germany was scheduled. From Samsun, he flew into the Capitol of Turkey, Ankara, and from there to Istanbul - formerly Constantinopl. With an overnight stay in this ancient gateway to Asia, he explored the old market place - an area stretching for miles with everything imaginable for sale - on the shores of the Bosporus. One side was Asia, the other Europe. A thoroughly modern city but still as ancient as time itself. On the streets were women dressed in latest Western fashion complete with high heels walking next to the traditional woman dressed in black. With half-closed eyes, he could imagine camel caravans from the east laden with spices meeting with ships from Europe burdened with textiles.
He had dinner at the rooftop restaurant at his hotel - the Istanbul Hilton. From this vantage point, he could see much of the city - the Blue Mosque in the distance, the ships and barges transiting the Bosporus from the Black Sea into the Aegean, he could hear the hustle of the city muted by traditional Turkish music from some hidden cabaret. He imagined the gentle swaying of a belly dancer keeping time to the music. His only regret was that he was alone and had no one with which to share that mystical, magical moment in time.
The next day, he returned to Germany and his permanent duty station. Those days and moments, however, were burned forever in his mind, and even now, over thirty five years later, he can close his eyes and transport himself once again back to the square and the dances, to the shores of the Bosporus, to the rooftop of the Istanbul Hilton - savor again the smells of commerce, of East meeting West - close his eyes and say a silent prayer of thanks to our Lord for giving him that opportunity.