As we headed out for a day of trawling through a few of the numerous carpet shops around town, the two husbands, Kenneth and Richard, insisted that it was only their wives who were looking for rugs. They claimed to have no interest in the process of acquiring furnishings for their homes; however, they soon found themselves pulled into the time-consuming rituals that are a part of buying any carpet in Turkey.
Knowing that we would find larger selections, as well as more reasonable prices, in the wholesale warehouses outside of the Grand Bazaar, I steered our group to the shop of a friend so that they could get an idea of styles, colors and prices before we began our hardcore shop-a-thon. It was here, buried under a swaying tower of kilims, that we found the one piece that they knew one of them would bring home.
When we first entered the shop, my friends immediately noticed a large carpet hanging on the wall. Not an ordinary rug, however, but one with Ataturk's image woven into the center medallion. Looking around the small space, they noticed another smaller rug with the face of a woman woven into it. Musing on the possibilities of having their own portraits incorporated into a carpet, my friends sat for the first of the many cups of tea that we would be offered during the day. As we sipped from our tiny cups, we watched as the salesmen unrolled carpets and kilims. While we sat and observed, I told my friends about another friend in the United States who collects kitschy memorabilia emblazoned with pictures of Elvis Presley. Everyone, including the carpet dealers, burst into laughter when I described the rug my husband had found for our Elvis obsessed friend -- a brightly colored carpet, with a picture of a young, thin Elvis in the center. While we were still chuckling about that image, a large kilim was unfurled that caught our attention. Decorative flowers were woven to form the outside border. But, it was the central image that fascinated us -- a large, antlered stag. "Look! It's Elvis the deer!" Richard exclaimed, much to everyone's amusement.
Both couples immediately wanted this particular kilim for their own houses, and each person immediately thought of a place of honor for it to hang. Placing it in the pile of possible purchases, we decided to go to lunch and think about which, if any, carpets they might purchase. While eating, we discussed the sizes, colors and styles that they were looking for. However, the conversation kept coming back to our Elvis. Who, we debated, would be the one to buy him and take him home? The simple act of naming the carpet suddenly made it our favorite one.
Following a leisurely lunch, we visited a couple other carpet shops, where purchases were made, packages prepared for shipping, and merchants were delighted to have made some sales on a dreary, wet winter day. The rug dealers did look puzzled, however, as some of the kilims they unrolled for us to look through were compared to Elvis and found to be lacking the same spirit and warmth. "They are nice, but they are just not Elvis enough," was a comment that perplexed the salesmen. Perhaps they thought this was the latest hip phrase to come from England. In the end, several pile rugs were bought and a few small kilims. But our hearts were with our waiting Elvis. His fate was still undecided, and hotly debated.
Many dollars, lira and pounds sterling lighter, we returned to the first small store to look once more through the pile of possibilities. The dealer carefully laid out each piece for consideration. Finally, at the bottom of the pile he lifted up the kilim, carefully placing it on top of the pile, looked at each person, and said, "So, who is taking Elvis home?"
After debating the merits of each house, it was decided who would have Elvis the deer grace their home. Carefully wrapped up, Elvis was ready to be taken to his new home in London, to hang on the kitchen wall of Richard and Kate. They did promise not to ever cook venison, out of respect for Elvis.
Elvis was carefully tucked into a suitcase for the trip back to London. After promising to send me photos of him in his new environment, my friends left for the airport. I know that the next time we meet we will still be talking about our Elvis. A simple shopping trip in search of the perfect carpets for their houses gave us a new inside joke. From Turkey to England, Elvis is certainly a well-traveled deer.
