Those You Meet Along the Way: Pepe

We’re back in Kas, Turkey . . .first visit for Marilyn, 1987. You’ve had all the background about the town. We’re having coffee when a young British girl comes over and asks if either of us know anything about first aid. So off we go, up past the Roman theater to this slumping hulk of a house overlooking the sea. She leads us to a room in the back with a screened porch. There’s a late middle aged guy stretched out on a rumbled bed, ashy face, skin pealing off his cheeks and a huge bandage on one arm. One look and we both know this is at least second degree burns . . . very painful and apt to infection. He tries to smile and tells us to call him Pepe. Marilyn takes care of the facial pealing as I unwrap the bandages around his arm. It’s severe second degree, but not infected, and it reaches from his finger tips to his shoulder. He has seen a doctor, won’t stay at the hospital and seems a stubborn sort. He also has a strange accent which turns out to be Czech. And thus a friendship begins.

Pepe blew out of Prague almost the day the Russians declared it the capitol of a People’s Democratic Republic. His brother and mother stayed. He went to Auz, got married, had a family, retired and was now traveling the world . .alone. Seemed his wife did not want to go anywhere.
He bought a VW Kamper Van in England, and set out to see as much of Europe as he could until his money ran out. He drove to Turkey through Bulgaria which at that time was very poor. He related how people blocked the road, stopped him and stole only his food. Then they let him go. Turkey was cheaper than dirt at this time, so he spent lots of time there. Three days before he was camping on an overlook above Kas, preparing a noon day meal using a gasoline fueled stove called a soba. When he fired it up it exploded and blew him out the open side door. How he managed to get from there to the hospital was explained in one sentence. ‘ I am tough old bird.’

Kas has a wonderful doctor, who you will meet later on, but the hospital is not under his control and when a person is treated, often has family there to tend their needs. Pepe had no one to help. So Pepe blew out, found this room in an inexpensive pension and hunkered down. He had tried to get back to get his bandages changed but the pain was too bad, and the walk too far. He could not drive his van because of injuries and it needed repairs. So here he was.

We show up every day to tend to him. He heals real quickly for his age. After three or four days he can make it to our van and we take him to the hospital. He gets the VW fixed and we make a trip too the nearest big town so he can buy some clothes and we can see what that part of the coast looks like. He tells us how he fought the Nazis in the Czech Legion and how pissed off he was when the American let the Russians dupe them into believing that they would give it the right to choose its government. Well, after while he told us he also had a bout with cancer. That was why he took off to see the world. It was colon cancer and the old fashioned operation. Let’s end with a quote from the last letter we got from him. He was back in Auz, hoping something could be done, steadfastly believing in the magic of his doctors.

‘We shall see what will be. No point to make any plans, as they never work out. So I shall live from one day to the other. Taking it as it comes. Relaxed, keeping my mental hygiene. Lazing as much as possible. Plenty of time for that. Sort of playing the Good Soldier Svejk in many ways.
Naturally I feel full of zest in many ways and desire to travel, but I have to also consider, unwillingly, my age and general ‘touched health, and nature’s blessings. I may still have some mileage in me. Like my car. We fit well together. And it’s actually my real home. which I will miss now, leaving it behind. The car as a psychological unit-shell gave me a feeling of PRIVACY, safety and a total FREEDOM of movements. . . doing and choosing. Also a good chance for ESCAPE when I was fed up with my stay with boring people.’ Farewell lovely Czech. Farewell.