Turkish Moments

Cake in school uniform

When we went back to the restaurant we saw that the two school girls had left earlier. They had probably gone back to their homes to do homework. I had been thinking how things would go - if they were still there. When we found out that they had gone I was both relieved and disappointed. We had stopped there for lunch on our way to the Asklepion and the one girl, still in her school uniform, had sat with us while we ate two types of cake, one chocolate and one fruit, followed by some kind of filo pastry dish that wasn't baklava. At first I thought she worked there and wanted to practise her English. Then she lit up a cigarette and her eyes held on to mine a little longer than they should have. And the smile that opened up was not from someone who wanted to practise English. She criss crossed her legs once and then twice and then a third time. She said she was nineteen but I didn't believe her. I don't think Adam did either. Then her friend came over. She had blonde hair and was dressed in ordinary clothes but she had the same sultry look in her eyes and was just as young looking. I actually wanted to leave right away but we had all these deserts to eat and I didn't want to offend the owner who is a nice old lady. We didn't mean to order so much. All I had wanted was a cappuccino but they only had Nescafe.

I was thinking how I could possibly finish all this damn cake when Adam asked the uniformed one when she was going to graduate. The following year was her reply and then she went on to say that she would go to Istanbul for university. I asked her what there was to do in Bergama in the evenings, for fun. She said there was nothing to do and that was why she wanted to leave and go to the big city. I forget now how it came about but a bit later on she mentioned that she was crazy and when she was crazy she liked to drink beer. I looked at my watch and said that we had better be going because the Asklepion would close in an hour or so. She looked at me and without knowing why exactly I said that we would come back later - for dinner. It wasn't something I wanted to say but sometimes I feel compelled to say things I don't mean just to escape an awkward moment. I could tell Adam was eager to get going as well. The blonde girl looked at me and then I said again that we would see them later, at about seven. I'm not sure if she understood because her English didn't seem good. She hadn't said much and was smoking a cigarette now. The uniformed one seemed satisfied that we should come back later but she said seven was too late. She had to get home so six would be better. Adam and I agreed although I knew we wouldn't be hungry at six. It was four now and we had each just forced down three plates of desert.

Freud and the Gypsy cat

The way to the Asklepion went through a gypsy neighborhood. A snot nosed muddy cheeked boy rode passed us on a bike that was way too big for him. He turned his head and shouted 'hello' to us and I returned with 'hello' but Adam said 'look out' because with his head turned the boy was riding towards a pool of disgusting trash riddled water on the side of the road. He righted the bike and rode away. I had heard from the two German school teachers staying at our pension that you had to walk through a dirty gypsy village to get to the Asklepion and that it had made them nervous. Adam said than in Australia they would never tolerate this kind of mess leading up to a major tourist attraction which was at one time a famed medical center and the world's first psychiatric hospital. They were doing dream therapy here 2000 years before Freud.

We saw a dead cat on the road that had been run over at least once. The skin had burst open and the guts were laid out snake-like in red and white. There was hardly any blood though, just red meat and fat. The head was untouched and the eyes were shocked open and empty. It made me think of the time Sara and I had seen a dead cat in Sanlitun. I had parked my bike I found a plastic bag in the garden. Then I picked the cat up by the scruff of the neck, put it in the bag and dropped it in a big blue bin outside Carmen. I know she approved of this sensitive behaviour and I had felt proud of myself for doing it. I had also thought that this was the kind of person I was. But seeing this bloody mess I had no inclination to clean up. There was no Sara to impress. As I think about it now, the two cats have a symbolic meaning. With the first one, the cat was still intact as was our relationship. But this second cat was badly mangled and its innards had exploded out. I imagined that soon the gypsy kids would come and prod at it with sticks and pieces of wire. And perhaps an older one would point out what bits were what - a macabre anatomy lesson in the middle of the road. 

Mushtafa 

Sitting on the Izmir bus the next afternoon, I started eating Turkish Delight but Adam turned a blind eye because he had eaten over a kilogram of the stuff back in Istanbul. This guy doesn't do half measures. He did seventeen days at Oktoberfest and nine days at Ibiza and after a short rest he would continue to eat his body weight in Turkish Delight. I reclined my chair and continued listening to The Iliad. Achilles was busy dragging the body of Hector around the city much to the horror of Priam and co. It had always been my plan to walk the walls of Troy while listening to this classic. Ever since my English teacher read us The Odyssey in high school, visiting the site had been a dream of mine and when I finally got there a few days earlier, I did two tours back-to-back. The first was a group tour and the second was a private with the local legend, guide Mushtafa. Even though it cost me a whopping 40 Euros, I had to have Mushtafa. He grew up near Troy and, as a boy, scurried around the different archaeologists digging in the dirt. He had been a guide for 30 years and had even written a book, which, by the way, I bought and he signed. I was here and I would not be denied any chance to further grasp the mystical wonder of this place. Mushtafa, you are my main man.

The tour was damn good and I got what I came for - a tangible intimacy with the site. Once Mushtafa left, I sat in the dirt by the western wall looking over at the farmland dissected by the scamander river with the Dardannells in the background. This was where Homer set his epic battle between Achilles and Hector and I watched it unfold before my twitching eyes. I got so carried away in the blood and guts of the moment that I almost missed my bus back to Cannakale. Having recorded Mushtafa's entire tour on my Iphone, I flicked it on to keep me company for the 30km trip. But the sound file was corrupt and I considering smashing the phone on the tarmac as a display of protest, but Steve Jobs probably wouldn't get that message. He had just died. 

Trojan filter

I met this Canadian guy at the Kebab House in Silcuk, just near Ephesus. Bald, overweight and loud, he seemed more Yank than Canuck. Since he had just traveled solo through Uzbekistan and a few of those other made-up countries in Central Asia and I happen to respect this kind of intrepidity, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. But this only earned him a reprieve from his eventual fall from grace. It is possible to accurately judge the compatability of a person from just one statement. The incompatability pokes its head out because the statement they unwittingly unleash, sheds light on a part of their character that one finds intolerable. Not because it's disparaging or negative in any way, but because it either attempts to deminish meaning from your world or reflects a self-righteous ignorance. I met a girl at a bar in Hong Kong who, ten minutes into the coversation, stated that she hated literature, art and basically anything cultural. Cheque please! I experience a similar recoil when a Chinese person tells me they hate Japan. Have you been to Japan? No. Have you ever met anyone from Japan? No. Then why do you hate Japan? Because of the war. Oh, I could've sworn that ended. The porcine Canadian exposed himself when I asked him if he had been to Troy. His reply, 'Yeah, I went to Troy. Jeez what a waste of time! There is nothing there.' And then he went to talk more about his time in Central Asia but I had pretty much stopped listening. 

Horsing around in Love Valley

After watching the rugby final at Fat Boys, I asked Manuela if she would like to go horse riding. She was keen and so we headed out to the horse ranch I had seen near the Open Air Museum. We bumped into the two American girls, Crissie and Lena, and they became apart of the posse. When we arrived at the ranch, the big cheese said that the horses were eating lunch and we would have to wait until three before we could ride. We all agreed that beer would assist us in killing the hour or so wait and so we found a little cafe nearby. I ordered four cans of Efes, a bag of Ruffles and some cashews and we munched and sipped under a blue sky that sung melodies of sunlight. The two American girls had never ridden before and the beer soothed their trepidation. I needed some soothing too because I've been afraid of horses ever since I was nine when I had two bad falls, one of them involving a tree. The only reason I wanted to do it was in order to master the skill, not because I enjoy it. I've been in three TV shows where I had to ride and two of those times I had to be led. How do you say 'nancy boy' in Chinese?

Our posse headed out into the Love Valley where the rock formations are cockeyed and tinged in shades of terracotta. It seemed our guide was content with just a walking pace and so I started making snoring noises. I had already walked through this valley and if I was going to put myself out by going horse riding I at least wanted to trot a bit. This circus pony nonsense was boring. He didn't get the hint and so I asked him if we could speed things up. I was told that because most of the posse were beginners, we would therefore just be walking. I kicked up a fuss and told him I wasn't paying 70TL for this bullshit and he got angry and said that on the way back he would let me ride homeward on my own. I started to get nervous then because I don't actually know how to ride and I had somehow conveyed that I could and angered him at the same time and now he was setting the stage for a tragedy with me in the lead. All I wanted was to trot a bit.

True to his word, homeward bound where the road splits, the guide told me to hang back and veer right while the posse went left into the valley. I had to fight with my horse because all he wanted to do was follow his pals but I managed to hold him until we were alone. He suddenly recognized the road and he bolted in the direction of the stables. I squeezed with my thighs, yanked the reigns with the left, clawed the saddle with the right and screamed like a ravaged siren on the inside. I wasn't trotting like I wanted but galloping instead and the horse's hooves were pounding the gravel with a rapidity that only a welterweight boxer and his bag could come close to approximating. The weird thing is that I slowly lost the fear and exhilaration replaced it. I realized that this is why people like horse riding. I used both hands to pull the reigns and the bit went so far up his mouth that the discomfort slowed him down much to his annoyance. We walked for a bit and I patted his sweaty neck and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. Then I let him go again and we repeated our gallop-walk routine all the way home without hitch.

When the posse returned I saw that Crissie was walking and in tears. Her horse had bucked her off on a steep slope and she had hurt her back. I felt bad because this horse riding thing was my idea and it was pretty obvious that they had matched her up with a frisky horse. I sat snug on my cloud of euphoria though because I had faced a fear of mine and came off unscathed. The nine year old inside of me chuckled to himself and then jumped on the tractor and rode off into the sunset.

I had to write about myself and also why I wanted to work at CCTV9 as part of application process.

Finding myself in China - a 7-year journey

The sky was sunny blue with silk clouds when I climbed on a plane and waved goodbye to my home. Home was, of course, Johannesburg, the big industrial hub of South Africa. Where was I going? America. How long? Supposedly 15 months. With who? Just me and my teddy bear. Why? To explore new territory. To find where I belong. To find out something about that very tricky and illusive entity commonly known as 'myself'. It was November 24th, 2000 and I had just written my final exam two days before. I guess you could say I was in a hurry to get away. Didn't even hang around for the graduation ceremony. My girlfriend cried all the way to the airport. I told her not to worry because I'd be back in no time. Just wanted to stretch my legs a bit. But she didn't buy that. Maybe she saw a twinkle in a my eye or she picked up on a new tone in my voice or maybe it was just good old woman intuition. Anyway, she somehow knew I wouldn't be coming back. Turns out she was right.

I spent the next four months working in a ski-rental shop in Winter Park Colorado. Yes, it was an easy job with lots of free time which I successfully used to fall down the mountain and almost kill myself on numerous occasions. Skiing is a fun sport, but you must remember, I'm from Africa. We don't get a lot of snow. The time sped by and before I knew it, my contract was up and I was traveling the Mid-west, Nevada and Arizona. I then jumped on a plane and headed down to Peru, South America. This country will blow your mind. It is so rich in history and culture that it will force open your perspective on life with a crowbar. I stayed a month in Cuzco, the gateway town to the lost city of Machu Pichu and the Inca Trail that takes you there. It's a fun town packed with tourists - I picked up some Spanish, worked at an Irish pub, met a girl and then let her drag me across to Bolivia, just next door. Bolivia is the cheapest country in South America and so you get a lot for very little. You can see the Amazon jungle for $25 a day which I did and it was awesome. I tried hunting down an anaconda, hooked and ate the flesh-munching piranha and swam in the river while alligators watched from the bank. And all this to impress a girl. Hmmm, the things we do for love.

On my 25th birthday, July 29th (remember this date so you can buy me a cake) I arrived in Vancouver. I was here to finally start being responsible about my life - a thing that I had gracefully been avoiding for a good while. But, at the end of the day, all play and no work leaves the wallet rather empty. I can almost handle this situation but I've found that girls are not that impressed with a guy whose idea of a date consists of a pizza slice and a coke. Therefore, with my computer science degree tucked under my arm I hit the squeaky clean streets trying to find a company that would hire me. Unfortunately, this was no easy matter. In fact, I feel that Tom Cruise had an easier job achieving success in that movie 'Mission Impossible'. Vancouver was going through a recession and no one wanted to hire a recent foreign grad with zero work experience. So, I did what any semi-sane 25 year old with lofty ideals about life would do - I decided to become an actor.

Learning how to act natural was an arduous journey that consisted of a lot of disappointment and frustration. I felt that if I could just win the admiration of my teacher, who used to act in Hollywood, then I would stand a chance of making it. I did make some progress, although it was agonizingly slow. And after 18 months of classes, I decided it was time to find an agent. Unfortunately, I had already extended my visa twice and the Canadian government wasn't in the mood for doing it a third time. And so, I packed my bags and hit the road again. Next stop, Taiwan.

Within a week of arriving I was in Chinese class trying to figure out this ancient and beautiful yet frustrating and seemingly inaccessible language. Learning those tones for the first week almost killed me. All I wanted to do was learn how to say stuff, but the teacher wouldn't let me learn a single word before I could pronounce the tones. Did I say it was frustrating? It was, but thank God I stuck with it. To support my life, I started teaching English. This job makes sense in Asia because its easy and the money is quite good. But, I could only do it for about two years. After which I started working for a magazine writing mostly travel articles. This was a fairly decent job, but not ideal. What I really wanted to do was find some acting work. But every agent I approached told me that all the movies and TV shows were made in Hong Kong and Beijing. I did a few commercials and that's where acting in Taiwan ended. Taiwan is a great place, but after three years I decided that I needed something new, something big, something that would make my head spin.

I arrived in Beijing 15 months ago, aged 30 and 9 months. My birthday is still July 29th (I'm a big fan of ice cream cakes). My plan was this: continue to write for the Taiwan magazine part time and spend the rest of my days working on a sitcom idea. I had decided that the best way for me to get an acting job was to create an absolutely awesome script, a script that no director in his right mind would reject. The main character in the story, would of course, be written for me so the director would have no choice but to hire me for the job. So, I set about doing that. Fortunately, because I found an acting agent, I also got some acting work on the side. I was therefore able to stop working for the magazine and could devote myself entirely to acting and writing. I haven't quite finished that magic sitcom script yet, but I'm still working on it. Lately, I've been concentrating more on my Chinese because I love the language and the more I know, the clearer and more beautiful the colors of China become. The language truly helps me immerse myself in the Chinese way of life. It's a way of life that I love. I'm happy to say that Beijing has become my home and couldn't imagine living anywhere else right now.

Over the last year, Tom and I have become pretty good friends. And since we arrived in China at pretty much the same time, we've had a bit of rivalry going on to see who could make a success of themselves first. When I met him, he was acting in an American independent movie and I envied his situation because he was doing exactly what I wanted to do. Then I got a job on a mini-series (壮士出征) and although he didn't say it, I think he was envious of me. Then he got a job working for CCTV and my whole head turned green with envy. What a great job! And how I could I compete with that? I've watched most of the shows that Tom has presented and enjoyed listening to his stories about where he's been and what he's seen. His firsthand account of the Sichuan earthquake was horrific, but I also considered that being there, in the heart of darkness, to be an awesome opportunity to witness how a country can mobilize and come together as one, in body and spirit, to deal with unbelievable tragedy. I thought Tom handled a very difficult and traumatic topic well by being sensitive and objective at the same time.

As far as I feel, working as a host on Rediscovering China is far more than a regular acting job. Not only do I get to be in front of the camera, a place where I love to be, I also get a chance to explore exciting parts of China, many of which most people don't even know about. Like the show you did about Nanning for example - I had never even heard of the place. And to discover that its destined to be a future economic hub - who knew? It's also a chance to interact with Chinese people in a work environment and to make use of the Chinese I've learned. Chinese people are so warm and kind, they're also very unpretentious. If you need proof of that, just look at the footage we got at Wangfujing yesterday. Every single Chinese person that I spoke to responded to my questions in a polite and gracious manner. I much preferred talking to them than the foreigners because they were approachable and friendly. Quite a few of the foreigners I tried speaking to did not want to know me. They were too proud or arrogant or just too busy going somewhere to answer a few questions.

When I went to the CCTV office yesterday to meet Mr Pang, I immediately liked the work environment. Everyone I met, in true Chinese style, welcomed me and made me feel at home. I enjoyed getting to know Mr. Pang a little bit. I also had a good chat with Mr. Jin and we joked about Tom's so-so level of Chinese. Tom didn't understand everything we said, but he got the gist of it. I guess his Chinese has gotten better since the last time I heard him speak. Keep working at it, Tom!

In closing, I would just like to say that I appreciate the opportunity I've been given in applying for the position of host on Rediscovering China. I feel, based on where I've traveled in the world and what I've seen, that I will be able to bring new and interesting ideas to future shows. Tom and I are both excited about the possibility of working together to create something sensational for China's viewing pleasure. I know that working for CCTV is a job that requires 100% commitment and dedication. I promise to give you a 110%. This is the kind of attitude I have when doing something that I love. And I know I will love working on your show. And now I have to go and give Tom a Chinese lesson. He still doesn't know how to get his sandwich warmed at Starbucks.

I didn't know where Guizhou was before getting sent there on assignment. It's one of those places that one hears about in passing but where no real evidence is given for its occupation in space. So it was with a complete blank canvas that I traveled down south to the capital city of Guiyang and then Zunyi for the annual Colorful Guizhou Photo-Original. This was the archetype Rediscovering China show - a huge international photography exhibition with Guizhou through the lens - China through foreign eyes or 'Waiguoren kan Zhongguo' as my show is called in Chinese.

Stepping off the plane, we were greeted by a mini-expo in the arrivals lounge by Fergus Greer, a world-class portrait photographer. On display were black and whites of celebrities - Michael Madsen standing at a urinal, Pandora Peaks in all her glory and Bill Gates with a mouse on his shoulder no doubt losing millions for this interruption to his day. Great photos, awesome narrative and all that, I just wasn't sure what Pandora had to do with Guizhou. I later found out that the expo had a category called 'Artistic Original' which was home to any photo that didn’t feature the province itself.

Zunyi is largely known for the significant role it played in the Long March back in 1936. This was where Chairman Mao became leader of the army and started to make headway in the fight against the KMT. The town is nestled in the picturesque north of Guizhou and is richly populated with myriad different ethnic groups - surely a big reason for it being chosen as the backdrop for an expo on color and light.

Because of the huge amount of entries (around 50000), it's no surprise that most of the photos had to be placed outdoors; along the river mostly, as well as parks and the like. This made all the works fully accessible to the locals and they could gaze through the windows of the world as their whim intrigued them.

The expo got underway with the customary speeches and we started filming. We were hoping that our focus could be on the foreign photographers themselves. They could talk about their work, how beautiful Guizhou is, their love of China, that kind of thing. But we were unlucky in this regard, the foreigners were few and far between and we were faced with imminent lack of substance, a shell of a show, hazelnut truffle without hazelnut.

Fortunately, Louis Mazzatenta, the world-renowned National Geographic photographer was in attendance and it was my boss's idea to make him the centerpiece. Louis has been capturing ancient civilizations as well as the here and now nuances of life for over forty years so it was truly a privilege that we got to see him in action zooming in on Guizhou.

Rediscovering China host Murray Clive in Guizhou for the  International Photogrphy Exhibition

I'm writing this little memoir about two months after my trip. The show itself has just been broadcast and I think it came out pretty well. It has a free-flowing and spontaneous rhythm to it, not too unlike how a photographer would go about his work, wandering in a desultory way, stopping and snapping, a spectator of life, framing it's colored silence.

An unrelated side note - don't participate with the locals in any kind of drinking game involving Maotai. These guys get quite a bit of practice and are only too happy to take on a visiting laowai all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed.