“If I don’t make money this year, I’ll apply for a visa to the states. If I don’t get it, I’ll go to Alaska.” His eyes are bright with dreams, my guide to Pergamon. After 911, tourism died in Izmir. So did many working in it. Suicides. Muslims. He had owned a travel company, was now employed by a former competitor. He’d gone to the Iraq border, worked as an interpreter before the war started. Then the bombs started to fall. He couldn’t bear that. He, a Kurd. Many of them, too. He left. Tried something new. Will keep trying.