I enjoy the friendly local that strikes up a conversation and inquires about my ethnicity, which seems to be a real novelty for them. But when literally 9 out of 10 people on the street yell at me as I pass taking wild stabs at my country of origin, it quickly adds up to hundreds of unsolicited and identical questionnaires over the course of a week for every week we’ve been in rural Turkey where we’re the only foreigners around. Sometimes this creates a rowdy entourage of local youngsters. Near the Iranian border in Doyubayazit we were climbing up a rocky bluff to the rubble of some 13th BC fortress when some picnicking locals stopped to take pictures of and with us. They were very friendly and courteous but they followed us like paparazzi, curious about everything we did and continually making attempts at conversation. As we left they lead us to their family at the make shift park below to take some more pictures. Upon approaching the women practically threw their babies at us. They took pictures of Steve and I carrying their little bundles of joy. Unfortunately we had to rush back to catch a dolmus so we were not able to accept their offer for tea. We left smiling and waving. We’ve also had some other wonderful exchanges with locals so having the asian card as an ice breaker does have its positive points.