Victim No More

I am not looking for pity.

Ever since I decided I needed to, was called to, was designed to write this book this has always been the line that stuck out to me. That would be the first line.

I am not looking for pity...

No one who has been abused is looking for pity. They may need something from you, but pity is not it. They need your love. Your understanding. Your compassion. And probably your shoulder. Your encouragement. Your belief. And your support. But pity? Pity is not what they want. Not at all what they need.

When I talk about my story, what happened to me, I get several responses. Responses range from anger to nonchalance. Yeah. Nonchalance. As in, "So what. We all have a story." So here I am, about to come out on a limb and share the moment that for some inexplicable reason I came forward. I am trusting this story in your hands. The reader's hands. Take from it what you will, but this is my story and I refuse to feel shame.

I have grown to fear the sharing of my story. When I first came forward and my parents were thrown in jail people were angry. Angry with me. My family hated me... Some of them still do. And I felt a backlash from the people closest to me when I tried to share what happened. I learned to hide the pain, all the while I had the knowledge that it was my future to share all of this with you... I was not given the childhood I had to simply hide it away.

There is a lot of back story here that I'm going to leave out in this post. At this point in my life, my mother "knew" what was going on. As in she had been told by me several times and had thought she had stopped it. Troy (my step father) was sick. It never stopped for more than a month before he figured out new ways to get to me. This is simply the story of the day I came forward, I will write later posts to share what had happened when I was younger, as well as, what happened in the months afterwards.

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It was my senior year. September. So much of that time is a blur to me. I learned at a young age to simply block away unpleasant memories. I did that here as well.

I had decided my junior year that I was going to the Air Force Academy. I was on track to get the heck out of Bryson City. Away from Troy. I wanted to go to the stars. As far away as I could climb. I wanted to become somebody. Anybody, but this weak, abused little girl. To get into the Academy I had to have paperwork filled out by my JROTC teachers, a favorite teacher, and my principle, Ms. Mathis.

I loved Ms. Mathis. I had known her since I moved to North Carolina. She had worked at the middle school I attended. She was one fantastic lady, and for some reason I always had a special connection with her.

It was Friday. Football day! I remember that. My mom had let me drive her car to school because I had Honor Guard practice afterwards, then I was supposed to pick her up from work. Early into the school day I went to see Ms. Mathis to get her to fill out my Academy paperwork. This was the moment that forever changed the path of my life.

Ms. Mathis asked me to wait in her office with her while she answered the questions. She would periodically ask me what I thought on the matter. Then, she got to the question, "Is there anything that could potentially hold this future cadet back from performing well at the Academy?"

She looked up and asked the simplest, hardest question. "What about our step-father, Sydney? Can you leave your siblings behind?"

She had thought there might be something going on. Troy wasn't only sexually abusive towards me, but physically abusive towards the rest of my family. We followed his word as if it was the direct word of God. You didn't dare question what he said. In public he was never very friendly; in fact, he scared most people. He had already held me back from some of my dreams. And he was rarely present for our school functions, recitals, sports games, or band performances. My interactions, and the way I talked about him had alerted Ms. Mathis to the fact that there might be more going on.

I looked at her and said, "Well, there's nothing going on now." Yeah. WRONG answer. That prompted the, "what was going on?" question. I broke down. I remember crying. I don't remember what I said. I know it was a lot. I know it was more than I ever wanted to say. Then I remember relief. Such sweet relief. It felt so good! Too bad it lasted a very short time. Then the fear came barreling in. I was so scared. I didn't want to go to the police. I didn't want to tell anyone else. In fact, I wanted to take everything back. I wanted Ms. Mathis to ignore every word I said. I begged her to not tell anyone. I told her I wouldn't go to the police. My family would hate me. I had no where to go. I cannot put into words the all encompassing dread that filled me.

Then she called in Officer Carolyn Posey, our school resource officer. I remember shaking. Wringing my hands. Twirling my hair. Trying to calm myself down. Ms. Mathis had me tell Carolyn everything. I recounted the story to her as I had Ms. Mathis. Carolyn urged me to go to the police with her. To come forward. I wanted to so badly. I remember thinking that I should. But still, this fear. I couldn't shake it. I clung to my past. I feared the unknown of the future. I knew what going home at the end of the day would be like. It would be the same as every other day. I knew what every day was like. This. This coming forward... No. That was different. It wasn't safe. I didn't know what would happen. I was so afraid. At that point they sent me back to class. They told me to tell my teachers I wasn't feeling well. Which was true. No one would question me as my face was all shades of red, my eyes ugly and blotchy. I dreaded what would happen next.

I think it was after lunchtime that I was called back to the office. Carolyn had a woman with her. An angel of a woman. This memory is shadowed. I don't remember the woman's face. Or even her name. But I do remember the stories she told me. Stories of other girls who came forward. People who had been hurt by their family as well. How they got help for those girls and even their mother's. I was so afraid my mom would get in trouble. They told me it depended on how she reacted, but that she could be proven innocent if she cooperated. It was when they said that my coming forward could save my brother and sister from pain that I began softening towards the idea. Who would protect them when I left for college? This was my biggest fear. I love my siblings. I was so afraid what would happen, I finally made the decision to go to the police.

I'm not sure how I got there. I think Carolyn drove me. Then she went to pick up my mom while I gave my statement to the Cherokee PD. I still remember the numbing affect of my conflicting emotions of joy and fear. I wanted so badly to share everything. To get Troy put away where he couldn't harm me or anyone else anymore... I told about the years of sexual abuse. Of being made to drink alcohol. Of being forced to walk around naked. Of the fear of what would happen if I ever told. It was all out. There was no taking it back anymore. I felt as if the whole world now knew my horrible secret.

What happened next will be forever seared into my brain. I struggle now to even write this. I feel it is necessary though. For you to know. Not only was coming forward freeing, and completely worth it, it was also the worst day of my life. I had never felt as bad about myself as I did that day.

My mom arrived at the police station. When she got there she was hysterical. Just as I feared change and the unknown, so did she. I heard her screaming in the hallway. Screaming that I was lying. That I was a little spoiled bitch. That I was making everything up. Ms. Mathis jumped up from the table we were sitting at and went running out the door to confront my mother. I was so thankful to have such a wonderful woman around to protect me, but it didn't stop the pain. Or the tears. Even now, my gut hurts with the pain of those memories. The hurt at having my mother not support me. I knew at that point that the next stage would not be easy. But I made the commitment to see it through. To continue on the path that I had started.

Over the next months, even year, there was a lot of pain. I experienced so many heartaches. Family that I loved, even my own Grandmother, turned their backs on me. Told everyone that I was a lying, scheming whore. My brother and sister went through hell during the transition as well. I felt like a wretched human being for putting my family through this all. I knew that in the end it would be worth it. The truth was worth the pain.

I say all of that because if you too are going through abuse right now I want you to know what it is like when you come forward. Your family may not support you. The people you love most you may say that you are lying. But you MUST stay your ground! You MUST come forward!! Troy was not only abusing me, he was abusing my whole family. He is a sick man who deserved to go away for much longer than he actually got. What if the person who is terrorizing you hurts another? You are strong enough, you are bold enough to step forward. To tell your story so that others may not suffer. For a long time I thought that I had made the worst decision of my life, but then the healing came. I was able to figure out what I really wanted to do with me life. Not just what I wanted to do to get as far away from evil as I could. I began creating stronger, better relationships with people who would truly support me. I began learning that the things I thought were "normal" were in fact very wrong. I learned what the true love of a Father was...

I didn't realize it until several months afterwards, but I was very close to killing myself. I had sat with the pill bottles next to me. Looked at them. Contemplated taking all of them. I had thought of stepping into the middle of traffic. I had even fantasized about simply running away, which carries many more problems than what I was already in... No matter what you think taking those pills will solve, or running out that door will do, it is never enough. The person who is committing or did commit those crimes (no matter how long ago) deserves to stand trial for their transgressions against humanity, against you.

Troy didn't get sent to prison for life. It wasn't the outcome I wanted. I had endured years of silence, abuse, and pain, for him to get a short sentence. But for the rest of his life he will have to wear a tracking anklet. He will be on the Sex Offender Registry. People will now know who he truly is.

To be honest, I don't know how to end this post. So I will say this, if you or someone you know is in trouble, please please help them come forward. Help yourself. Be selfish! Tell the world what is happening in secret. I want this to be secret no more. I don't want a single sex offender to ever feel they can abuse another person. They should fear the truth of their crimes. The only one who can make them fear is you. And me... The victims who will remain a victim no more.

Stand Up. Speak Out.


**Please take a look at the blog I have now set up to feature not only my story, but your stories as well. http://standingupforus.blogspot.com.tr/2014/01/victim-no-more.html  Give my posts a comment, and follow for updates when I post! Contact me if you would like to share your story. You are welcome to share anonymously or with your information attached. **

2014... YOU will be my Year!

I'm not going to lie. 2014 has some serious downfalls for me. It's another year abroad. Away from family. That kind of starts to wear on you! I love living overseas, but right now I am struggling. We will have a trip home soon (July!) and I'm sure that will refill my batteries and get us through much more to come! I am applying for several things this year, including a job, which holds its own stresses. And I'm hoping to grow more musically.

The biggest event to come in 2014 is the release of my step father from prison. I have had this on  my mind for weeks to write about and I keep holding myself back. Afraid to put this all in words. The dread and fear that I have of this persons release into the world again. It's easy to forget their general existence (aside from the physical and emotional scars) when they are locked away. Unable to get to you and those that you care about. But this is the year. The year that the man who terrifies me gets to walk freely again.

To say this is unjust doesn't really begin to cover it. I was 17 before I came forward with what was happening to me. And honestly I don't know when the abuse began. Sometime in the 3rd grade...

The feelings that started in me before the New Year can be intense. I'm sure that he will never contact me, because to do so could get him thrown back in jail, but the irrational fear that embeds itself into abuse victims is one I know all too well. I fear the person who is locked away, I fear my own fear, and I fear what could become of those I love when he is released.

I say all this in preparation for what I want to say next...

This is MY year. I will succeed in this year! I will grow in my faith to Christ and the God who loves me and saved me, and will continue to guide me. I will grow in my musical talent and ability. I want to really concentrate on getting better at both singing and playing. Harmonizing, and learning my voice and its capabilities. This year I want to begin making a difference in other abuse victims lives, be they in abuse now, just coming out of it, or still dealing with the scars left over. I WILL begin my book. In fact, as hard as it may be to post, I want to begin posting my ideas on this blog. I hope to reach other readers, other abuse victims, I want to get their stories, their scars, their fears, and I want to expose the world to what we are going through and what they can do, what we can do to make it better. Within the next week I want to begin posting my first thoughts on this book and how I want (and how God wants) this to move forward. First and foremost, something I have been lacking in, I want to begin every day with a prayer for those women and men out there who know what it is to be sexually, physically, and mentally abused.

I can already feel myself changing, and I hope that you can take this journey with me. I want you to grow and change with me. To become a stronger, better person. Whether you believe there is a magnificent God out there who loves you or not, you can journey with me forward in 2014. One of the scariest years of my life.

**please share this post. I really want to reach abuse victims. Share your stories with me. Your thoughts. Your fears. I will join you, I will love you, I will cry and pray for you. With you.**

Thanksgiving!

I'm incredibly excited about Thanksgiving tomorrow!

We have spent the holidays overseas, away from family, since our marriage began. Richard's first base was England, and now our second is Turkey. We lack the money and ability to make it home to see our family and the ones we love during the holiday season. Instead, we make a small family locally to share our holiday season with. Thanksgiving is my tradition (Christmas too, but that's a later post!)

Every year we have had others over to our home for a "family" style dinner. I still remember my first year as a spouse, cooking a giant feast for 10plus people (half of whom I didn't even know!) and it turned out amazingly! Since then, I conquer Thanksgiving with vigor and joy. I enjoy having people around me, and have always enjoyed cooking. Thanksgiving Thursday is my time to get together with a military family, whom would otherwise not have the joy of a "family" meal.

This year will be our biggest party yet! I find this kind of funny since we've only been at this base for a little over a month and a half...

Thanks to Richard's work schedule he has to work Thanksgiving day. ALL day... (He also has to work Christmas day... but hey! That is this life.) Anyways, we created our normal Facebook event because everyone knows it isn't official until it is Facebook official, and invited all of the people we had met and liked here. Then we decided to invite Richard's crew, and the other guys who have to work Thanksgiving with him. Now we have at least 20 people coming over! Most of them are here unaccompanied (without their spouses and/or children) or don't have anyone else to spend the day with. Which, I guess, is kind of all of us over here! It feels good to be surrounded by others in the same position as us. These people become our family when our real ones are unable to join us.

I will most definitely be taking pictures and posting another post either tomorrow or Friday. It might just be pictures, as I'm hoping there are no huge disasters that happen that would require me to actually write!

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I hope that if you are reading this and you are military, you know that you have a family in all of us.

I hope that if you are reading this and you have the pleasure to spend Thanksgiving day with your family, surrounded by those who love you, you will think of and pray for all of us small families overseas, all of those military members deployed, and all of those spouses back home wishing they had their loved ones.

So What if I'm Supposed to be Cleaning...

I may be cleaning at the moment... I may be sitting at my computer... typing... Or maybe I have a really long extra arm and I'm doing both!

Yeah. Who am I kidding. I'm so not cleaning right now...

Instead I keep walking around, picking things up, sweeping a small area, then wandering back to my computer to change a song I don't like on Pandora, or thinking about what I want to blog about, or checking my Facebook (why is Facebook so distracting!) I then wander into my daughters room to see what she's up to, which currently consists of pulling all the clothes out of the drawers in her closet and then putting them back in a rather more unorganized state than they were previously at... yeah. I just organized that dang closet two days ago!!

We have our shipment of household goods (HHG) coming in tomorrow (can I get a WHOOT WHOOT!), hence the reason I should be cleaning. I even put on some fun radio to try and spur on the 'cleaning momma' mood. Not working. Not working at all.

So since my body, my mind, or my whatever you want to call it has decided it wants me to write I'm going to share a happy memory that makes me miss my friends and family back home.

If you are friends with me on Facebook you may have noticed my status about my last job in America before I moved to England.

I worked at this fantastic little shop called Tribal Grounds Coffee from the time I was 16 years old until I left the country at 19 to begin my journey into military life, overseas living, and adventure! To say I loved this job would be an understatement. I ADORED my job. I loved immersing myself into coffee culture. And we are talking real coffee. Not that crap Starbucks calls a latte. Leon, my boss extraordinaire, was one of the best bosses I have ever had. Not only was he incredibly knowledgeable, passionate, and fair, he was also willing to learn from his employees. His passion stemmed into everything he did with the shop. It was here I learned all about latte art, customer service, the origins of coffee, and how to properly steam milk by sound and touch. I perfected skills that I still remember today! One of the few constants in my life was Tribal Grounds and the people there. When I was moved out of my house senior year of high school, when I left for college, when I was trying to get my Visa to England, Tribal Grounds and Leon were always there for me! I get serious cases of nostalgia when I think back to the amazing cups of coffee I would make for the locals and tourists. It was a great experience to have someone who was an avid Starbucks (or other non-independent coffee shop) goer tell you how the latte I had just made them changed their entire opinion of how coffee should be served.

I used to hang out at the shop on my days off with my friends, we would go to open mic night, I would flirt with my boyfriend, I made friends, and lost one whose presence I will always feel when going to that building. My job as a Barista is my best memory of the time of my transition from moody teenager to adulthood.

Leon has moved onto a new business in the bustling city of Durham called Cocoa Cinnamon, and I get so envious of the barista's who get a chance to work in such an amazing place! Leon and Areli (pretty much the best people ever) are creating a magical place that I hope to one day visit! If you get the chance to stop by, please do, and let me know how simply amazing it was (I doubt it will be nothing short of fantasmical).

And that is it for today... Thanks for joining me on my brain craziness of the afternoon!

These are two pictures taken during my first forays into latte art... I don't have any of my later designs or some of my best stuff unfortunately... That's probably because I was working.....

Welcome to My Version of Life

Good Lawdy...

This was our first real PCS (permanent change of station for you non military speaking folk) and it has been quite hard. Not gonna lie.

When I moved to England I was a newly wed with nothing to my name but my book collection and clothing. Now I have a family. A household. Responsibilities.

Sure. Driving to Turkey was hard. But when all is said and done, that was the easy part.

Adjusting here is really hard.

Turkey is foreign. And I mean FOREIGN. I'm not sure you can really grasp how weird it is here... On base is even different from the other bases I've been on. Some people can't speak English, and I can't speak the local language. Even grasping how to say thank you in Turkish is hard for me! It's the the most unsettling and disconcerting thing not being able to communicate with those around you...

 There are so many things about my life now that I can't really tell family and friends because it would endanger our OPSEC (operational security). There are a lot of financial issues that have arisen since getting here that we never foresaw that we are now having to deal with...

I have to confess that I am really struggling right now. I'm fighting with my husband, short tempered with my child, things keep seeming to go 'wrong' in our day to day lives. I feel like I'm struggling to make friends (friendships have always been a bit weird for me..) I spend thirteen plus hours a day with a fussy, teething, grumpy baby and I don't have my things. It's funny how that affects a person. I don't have the spices I want to cook with. I don't have my bed! I don't have my lamps. My pots and pans aren't here. My clothes, my towels, my stuff that I like are just not here. I know I can live without my things. They aren't necessary. Nice, but not necessary. However, when you have uncomfortable furniture and a lack of cooking supplies it does something to a woman!

We did find out today that our household goods have arrived and we get to have our things next week, but this just raises all kinds of other stressers (did the movers break anything important? Is my antique dressing table in one piece? Did some of my things not even make it on the truck? Are they going to actually unpack us or just leave us with boxes to do on our own?) I know these stresses are part of military life, but that doesn't make them NOT stressful. I dislike  hate when people say things like "It's just part of this life," or, "It's just stuff." Yeah. I know that. But it's my stuff! Just because I don't like the stress of some of the moving process, doesn't mean that I dislike the service that my husband does. I love being in the military family. I love living in Turkey. I love moving. I hate stress.

I'm sorry if this post seems a little erratic (and sad). It's late. I've had a very long and stressful couple of days with some bad news to complement all the other things going on and I just had to write. Here's the outcome of me just writing...

Don't worry! It will all work out (so I don't like when people say it to me... I can say it to myself!) I really like Turkey so far. I can't wait to have our car driveable to go explore! We've got some really cool things planned like a Saturday BBQ at our gardeners house (a very nice Turkish man). This is but a season in our time here, and it will pass quickly... Hopefully really quickly...

Welcome to My Version of Life...

Day 6 and Our Arrival to Turkey

Day 6 of our adventurous, ridiculous, insane, wonderful, beautiful, chaotic, delicious, uncertain, surprising and long Journey to Turkey. 

Today held lots of surprises. Some bad, some good. 

Our morning was pretty great! We had a nice Greek breakfast provided by our hotel. Rhapsody got to run around and play with the two ladies again, and we made some Albanian friends while enjoying coffee on the front porch.  

We have met so many people on this trip from all different cultures and backgrounds! It is amazing to see how we can communicate without words, as well as how much joy children can being to people. 

We were on the road by 9 am. Today was the day that we crossed into Turkey. Tomorrow is our last day of driving!! 

The Turkish border came up quicker than we were expecting. Just two hours after hitting the road in Greece. The Greek side of the border wasn't too bad. We got a bit hung up because our cars title was located in our fire proof safe under the seat which had stuff packed in... After unpacking that side of the vat and digging the documents out it to about 20 more minutes before  we were through the Greek border and just had to drive to the Turkish side.

The drive was interesting... It was a mere 5 minute drive, but the whole way there were these little shacks with solders (holding large guns) watching us. 

I'm not prone to wild imaginations of harm and corruption when it comes to military placement, but I have to say that those guys were awful disconcerting.

We hit a Turkish passport control, he checked our passports, and sent us forward. We through another passport control line and were informed that we needed to buy a Turkish Visa. 

Richard parked the car and went to buy the visas. It was 15€ each, which wasn't horrible. After about 30 minutes we had passports with Visa stamps and were sent into the next line. 

This is where things got interesting.

At the same time that we pulled up to get our car inspected I got a phone call from Expedia (who we booked our hotels through). Richard got out to do the car inspection and I took the call. 

Ajay (so he said his name was) informed me that our hotel in Fanari had been refunded. During our conversation I asked him if he could please check with our hotel in Ankara to see if the dogs were in fact okay. This was another hotel that had "Pet Friendly" on their website. He said sure and hung up.

Richard got back in the car, looking a little concerned, and pulled forward to park out of the way. He told me that the customs people couldn't speak English and they were confused why half our paperwork was British, our car had British plates, but we had an American car (and title) as well as American passports. Richard got out of the car to handle the customs part.

After a couple minutes he came back and backed us into the customs area to get our car inspected. Once again the staff were confused by our paperwork as well why our car was full of stuff.

The customs agent stood at the back window staring at the dogs for a bit, so Richard opened the door. He just looked more confused and none of our paperwork made sense to him. Then he came around the sides to check the back seats. When he saw all the stuff piled in the car he got EVEN more confused. He seemed to ask where we were going. This is when Richard pulled out his military ID and said "Incirlik". We should've done that way before because the customs agent got noticably happier. He started asking "Incirlik?" And Richard said yes. The customs agent had Richard close the doors with no further inspection, then brought everyone out from the office to look at the dogs before letting us head on our way with no more issues. This was better than we'd hoped! Everyone else going through had to empty their cars by we got sent onwards. Yeah! 

That was exactly when Ajay called me back to say our hotel in Turkey wouldn't allow dogs. 

Seriously. The "Pet Friendly" hotel doesn't allow two large dogs. Again. Someone should learn that "Pet Friendly" is not selective. 

To say I was angry would be much too light of a word....

I put on my stern mommy voice and insisted on a full refund, as well as he must find me a room in Ankara for the night because we were due to be on the road for at least 7 more hours and it was already well after noon. I would be completely unable to find us a room! 

He kept repeating "I understand that you are upset but there is nothing I can do." 

Seriously!? Nothing you can do!? And your supposed to be a travel agency service? 

I gave him quite a chewing out, maintaining a level of respect (Richard thought I should've been meaner since they had seriously messed up). Then the phone lost signal.

We were switching tower zones from Greece to Turkey. I received a text message from Vodafone saying that the cost of calls were now 138p per minute to receive. £1.38. Per. Minute. 

Ajay called me back a few minutes later and informed me that he had found a hotel for us that would take our two large dogs. He mentioned that it was a bit more expensive. 

"How much 'more' expensive?"

"One hundred seventy one pounds a night." 

WHAT!! 

Our original hotel is £56. That just got upped to £171!! 

Oh, but out of Expedia's "remorse" for our situation they would take 10% off. So a whole whopping £17. I told him that was still way too expensive and I didn't think we could afford that. 

He gave me a big lecture on how we wouldn't find anywhere cheaper willing to take the dogs because everywhere was booked full already. 

We were in the middle of Turkey. Paying nearly two dollars a minute to talk to this schmuck. With no possible way to find another hotel. Fan.tas.tic. 

I asked Ajay to call me back in a few minutes so I could talk it over with Richard. 

Unfortunately we had no choice. There was nothing we could do. We were going to have to pay $200 for a hotel we would be in for less than 8 hours. 

Ajay called us back and said he could take another £25 off the price of the hotel. We agreed. TEN minutes later he had us booked in. I don't think Ajay understood money very much... Ten minutes equals £13.80 on one phone call.

Thankfully the drive through Turkey was really pleasant. The landscape wasn't what we expected! There was a lot of farmland! That is until we hit Istanbul... Where traffic slowed to a stop.

It took more than 2 hours to get through the city. The traffic was crazy! Drivers didn't care about road laws or cutting in front of you when there really wasn't any space. I don't know how we didn't see more wrecks! We only saw one the whole time. Tolls through the city were horrible. The lanes would split to 12 lanes, and then back to 4 immediately. It caused for a lot of honking and angry faces. The coolest part of all the traffic was the guys walking down the middle of the highway selling fresh fruit, water, pretzels, and sweets. They didn't knock on your car windows, or bug you. You just rolled up, told them what you wanted (or in our case gestured) and paid through the window then moved on. Halfway through the traffic Rhaps started to get upset just as we drove up next to someone with bananas. Richard rolled the window down, handed over 4 Lira ($2) and we got two bananas and a bottle of water. Pretty awesome!! 

After Istanbul we had smooth sailing for all of 10 miles before it started down pouring. Really. Torrential downpour. Our time of arrival had already gotten pushed back to 10:30 and now, driving at 40 mph instead if 70 we watched as the eta got later and later. 

It hit about 7 pm when we decided we needed dinner and stopped at a Burger King. I know what your thinking. "Really? You ate Burger King in Turkey? Couldn't you have gotten something better?"

Turkish sounds nothing like anything English. We listened to podcasts and YouTube videos trying to learn some of the useful phrases but we found them terribly difficult. Since we didn't know anything about the area we were in we figured Burger King was the safest bet. Ordering was still difficult but in the end we figured it out. Back on the road our ETA was well after 11 pm now. 

I guess it was a food thing that we booked the way too expensive hotel because trying to find a hotel in the huge city of Ankara at near midnight would've been impossible. 

We got to the hotel eventually, checked in, used the "complimentary valet service" (I paid for that with the price if the dang room!) and were up in the room by 11:30. 

That's when I learned that our nearly $200 hotel room didn't come with a free breakfast OR free wifi. We had stayed in more accomadating, nicer, and cheaper hotels just days beforehand! The lobby of the ritzy place was flashy and extravagant, but the rooms were merely okay for the price. The carpets were old, the blankets and towels not soft, the bed was hard. What the heck were we paying for? Absolutely disappointing.   I'll take a cheap, friendly place over a ritzy one any day! 

We can take heart in the fact that we gave a room, even if it is ridiculously expensive, and we don't have to leave the dogs cooped up in the car all night. 

Tomorrow is the final day of our journey. I cannot wait to be done. 

This has been amazing. I wouldn't have done it any other way. But I'm ready to start our new life in Incirlik. 

Now enjoy pictures from our ridiculiously  expensive hotel...

Because who doesn't conduct business on the phone whilst pooping...

Day Five With a Whole Lot of "No"

Day 5 of our adventurous, ridiculous, insane, wonderful, beautiful, chaotic, delicious, uncertain and long Journey to Turkey. 

One of the most disconcerting things is not being able to communicate with people. We have met a lot of locals who could speak English, but today we ended up in a small town where not many people could speak our language. And our Greek is nonexistent. We can ask a couple questions, however, today we needed to properly communicate and that was nearly impossible...

The morning started out really nice. We woke to our alarm going off, readied, packed the car, grabbed a quick chocolate croissant breakfast from the bakery down the street, and were on the road by 8 am. 

The drive through Greece was beautiful. Richard and I were both in awe of the countryside. There were mountains everywhere, ocean views, and beautiful farmland. It was supposed to be cloudy and stormy all day, but we were lucky and caught sun the whole way down. Greece's toll roads are MUCH cheaper than France and Italy's. Where France and Italy were about 20-40€ a toll, Greece was a mere 2.60€. 

We made really good time on our drive again today! We were pulling into Fanari at about 2:30. The sun was shining, the ocean inviting, and I was excited!! I couldn't wait to get to the beach to do a bit of swimming before the storm hit that we could see forming over the mountains behind us. After getting a bit lost in Fanari, we finally found our hotel at about 3pm. The hotel looked really nice! We were majorly excited. We unloaded ourselves and the baby and went inside to check in. 

There was a group of people sitting off to our right having a conversation. I saw a few of them look over at us and heard the word Agglika, I assume because they could hear us speaking English. I don't think they were too happy about our arrival time since it was the Greeks siesta between 2 and 5pm... 

A gentleman came towards us saying "Hello, can I help you?"

Yes! Someone who spoke English! Win! 

"Yeah we need to check in." 

We handed over our paperwork. At this point Richard says, "We have two dogs with us, is that okay?"

Let me cut in here to say, I booked this hotel through Expedia. I called them and asked if having my two big dogs would be okay. The told me, quote, "That will be okay." 

Okay. Back to the hotel. 

The gentleman checking us in looked up at us with what could only be described as disgust.

"No. We only allow one dog 5 kilos or less." 

My stomach sank at that. I have two huskies. At 27 kilos each they were way too big. 

We tried persuading the guy. Explaining that our dogs are well behaved, won't ever be left alone in the room, and will not make a mess inside. He asked us what kind of dogs we had and he said, "Oh, I know the type. No. They are not allowed." 

You know the type? What the hell does that mean! Seriously. You have got to be kidding me. 

I had personally looked at the website for this hotel and all it said was "Pet Friendly." Yeah. Pet friendly my butt!! Chihuahua friendly maybe. 

We tried negotiating a bit more at which point the guy got a bit rude. I was getting more and more upset. 

For once my adorable daughters crazy cuteness didn't work on the guy. 

He told us if we called Expedia and cancelled through them he would refund us fully. We told him we were moving and had no way to call anyone. He scoffed (yeah. Scoffed.) and asked us why we didn't have anything. BECAUSE WE ARE MOVING. 

We asked if he knew of any hotel in the area that would allow dogs to which he replied. 

"No."

Great, we were in the middle of Greece. Without a hotel. No way to call anyone. No way to find a hotel. And unable to speak the language

My dreams of beach bumdom were shot. 

That's when the tears started. 

I fancy myself a strong women. We've handled a lot of crud on this trip, and handled it well. 

Potentially not having a place to sleep? That's something I couldn't handle.

I really felt like such a failure. It was my responsibility to find dog friendly hotels and I had failed. 

No, it wasn't really my fault, but it didn't help me feel better about the fact that we didn't have a hotel... 

Who doesn't take a bribe, too? We tried to offer extra money! And if the dogs damaged anything, they have our card on file to charge it more... 

We left the hotel with our stomachs in knots. We drove into town, where we had seen a lot of hotels, and Richard began going to every single one to see if they would allow us to stay. 

Everyone said no. Not only was it the off season, but we were also interrupting their siesta to ask questions in a language they didn't know. We tried the next town over, but still no luck.

I started getting more angry. Angry at the hotel and Expedia and myself. After some more searching we decided it was worth calling Expedia to make THEM fix it.

I called, opted for the call back option because it costs less to receive calls than to send them. Waited ten minutes. No call back. Five more minutes.... We decided to call again. This time I stayed on the line and got someone. Of course this someone was your stereotypical call center operator. You know the ones I'm talking about.... Anyways, I explained our situation to him. Nicely explained. (No crazy lady calls for this guy!) He said he would have to call the hotel in Fanari because his system says they are pet friendly with no stipulations. I told him we needed to find another hotel in the area to stay at, but that we can't speak the local language. At which point he says "Well, you should probably keep looking..." 

Right. What a grand idea. I'm really surprised we didn't think of that! 

I insisted that when he called back with the Fanari's answer on our refund that he help us find a hotel. 

After talking to Expedia we decided to head to the bigger town we had passed on the way in and see if maybe a hotel could be found there. 

On our way out of town I noticed a sign for a pretty nice looking hotel down by the beach. 

Hey! Let's take a chance here. We went to check it out. 

We decided it was a good idea to send me in. Who wouldn't take pity on a stranded woman? 

Turned out it was a good idea sending me in! There was a lady at the counter, I asked "Signomi, Milate Agglika?" 

"Rosski (Ruissin?), Deutch (German?)"

"Uh... No..." 

Damn. Now what do I do? We began talking to each other in our own languages accompanied with extravagant gestures. 

"I need one room," 1 finger up. 

"For two people and baby," point to myself and next to me, and cradle my arms...

"And two dogs."

"Dogs..." 

I hold my hand at my hip to show their height...

She looks mildly confused, when another woman walked in. She turned and started asking the other lady questions. I assume she's the boss. She took one look at me (I'm sure I had a frantic and lost look on my face) and walked right up to pinch my cheeks in a loving gesture. It made me smile. 

She said yes to the dogs and wrote down 35€ on a piece of paper. 

YES! I'll take it! 

We got a bit confused from there with each of us trying to communicate so she turns around, picks up the phone and dials someone. She talks quickly into the line and then hands the phone to me. 

There was a gentleman on the phone who speaks English!!! I quickly explained to him what I needed and he says all is fine. We could get the room for 35€. 

Perfect! Absolutely perfect! 

The lady talked to him for a minute longer, grabbed a key and motioned for me to follow. I walked out of the hotel with the biggest smile on my face! I give Richard a big thumbs up where he was sitting in the car. She takes me across the courtyard, upstairs, and into the biggest room we've had yet! It was nice. Clean. And the bed was big! It had its own little porch and sitting area. It was more than perfect for a cheaper price than the one we were staying at originally! And the people were so friendly! 

I gave the little old lady a hug and she in turn squeezed my butt.

Yes. Squeezed. One hand squished. My. Butt. 

Eh, if that's the only extra thing I had to do to get the room I'll take it!!

All I can say about all this is that God provides! We just had a feeling we should check the hotel. I had seen the sign for it on the way to Fanari and had thought we should've stayed there! And on the way back I had the feeling we should check again. I totally chock it up to divine intervention. It looked much too nice to allow dogs from the advertisement, but the women were so friendly and dogs weren't a problem!!! 

We got the baby and dogs out of the car. Everyone instantly fell in love with Rhaps. There was two old women (the ones who checked us in) and three men sitting outside on the porch enjoying coffee and cigarettes. The two ladies were fretting over her. She walked up and stole one of the old men's prayer beads! They all laughed and played with her. This hotel was definitely a good choice! We couldn't actually have a conversation but we were able to communicate nonetheless! 

After getting settled in our room we headed out to get some dinner. It was only 6, and like I said yesterday, most Greeks don't eat until 8, but we decided to take our chances. 

We drove back to Fanari since that was the only place nearby with food, despite the inherent hate we now had for the town. On the way there we were caught up in a huge rainstorm. When we parked at the village there only appeared to be one restaurant even open. Richard braved the weather, at his stomachs insistence, to see if they were serving food. He came back to me to say the place was only serving pizza. He was starving so I gave in. 

When I stepped out of the car, the rain was falling so hard and so fast that the street had turned into a river. The water instantly flowed up and over my shoes. My favourite pair of teal moccasins!!! I quickly removed my shoes and ran to the other side of the car to get Rhapsody. The umbrella I had pulled out did little to protect us as we got Rhaps out of the car and ran to the restaurant. 

By the time, a meer few seconds, we got to the door of the hotel my jeans we soaked clear up to my knees. Richard and I stopped, looked at each other, and just busted out laughing! Today had been the worst, best, stormiest, uncertain day of the trip so far. There were a few men smoking in the restaurant, waiting out the rain, who joined us in our laughter. We looked a mess. Richards clothes and shoes were soaked. My jeans were dripping water everywhere. At least there would be pizza and wine! 

A friend of mine posted a story on Facebook today with some great advice that I think Richard and I are fully coming to believe in. It's all about when the waves of life come towards you, you can run away, but the waves will catch you; you can stand still and let them knock you over; or you can dive deep, ride the wave, and come out a more experienced and better person. 

There are so many reasons we decided to get to Turkey the way we are. We knew it would be hard. We knew it would test us. We didn't forsee all the problems we were going to have, neither did we realise how much we would grow and change. How much we would gain. 

Today was a test. It was difficult. But it was fantastic! We got to watch an amazing storm rage over the sea while we enjoyed dinner with some really nice people. We got to meet some amazing women (Bulgarians by the way! Not even Greek!). And we learned to lean on each other and God for one more day. 

Tomorrow we cross into Turkey. We have two more days of travelling! We will be in Adana on Thursday! I'm excited to start our new life in Turkey. 

Thank you for reading our continuing journey. Now enjoy some pictures!! 

Morning sunrise over the mountains in Greece

This is right outside Fanari, the original town we were supposed to stay in. 

Rhapsody asking for the prayer beads.

He gave them over!!

Our room, half of it anyways! 

This is the front of the hotel, you can't tell but the beach is RIGHT there.

This is the but grabbing, sweet old lady! 

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