When we left the hotel in Tokat, we knew this would be a different sort of day.

The bus made a wrong turn and inadvertently took us through the countryside alongside cabbage fields and orchards where local men and women were meticulously working the land. It was a peaceful and serene drive back to the city center, which we hadn’t yet seen. Once there, we visited the ethnographic museum and then made our way up through the snaking side streets of the city, past bakeries with bread in the window, doe-eyed children playing in the streets, mothers yelling from upper windows, and elderly men and women wrapped up in layers of dark clothing (in spite of the 72 degree weather) making their way up the steep streets like pulley cars on a mountainside rail track. One thing I’ve discovered about the Turkish people is that they are always happy to pose for a picture, so like typical Americans we were documenting this unexpected but welcomed journey through the “real” Turkey.

We took the same approach in Sivas, where we arrived later in the afternoon. Immediately upon stepping off the bus we found ourselves in the middle of a pack of giddy schoolchildren who began asking us questions in English. “Where are you from?” “What is your name?” “Do you like Sivas?” Again, the cameras flashed.

The museum in Sivas is remarkable and extremely important to the Turkish people. This is where, in the early 1920s, Attaturk framed the ideologies that would move the country forward and where the new government-to-be met secretly to plan next steps, much like the U.S. did against the British prior to the American Revolution.

We spent time in two former medreses (religious schools) which now provide a place to sit and enjoy a cup of tea and browse shops that offer local handicrafts. For you kilim hunters out there, this is the place to come. Antique kilims that are 2 x 4 in size can be had for $50 U.S. Larger kilims – 4 x 6 or thereabouts – go for about $150.

The most remarkable part of the day came when I met five Turkish boys ages 8 – 11. They were sitting outside the medrese, and one was wearing a soccer shirt that I have been in search of for my kids since arriving in Turkey. Through a translator, they told me the shop was five minutes away. While I watched the rest of my group head off in one direction toward the hotel, I took off on foot with my five new friends. They were just as excited as I was because they genuinely wanted to help me. Sure enough, five minutes later I saw the shirts flapping in the breeze above a market stall. I used my friends as models to choose colors and sizes, which thrilled them immensely, and showed them photos of my own children – the soon-to-be benefactors of their kindness. I tried to buy them candy but they wouldn’t let me, either because it’s Ramazan or because it doesn’t jive with their culture. I could tell that payment was not in their minds at all. And they got me back to the hotel without a hitch. Take a look at their picture in the group of photos above.

Another great day and one that brought me face-to-face with the real Turkey and the kindness of its people.