Part 1 of Turkey 2011: In the City of 3,000 Mosques, Istanbul.
The hamam was just what I needed to knock me out cold. Even so, my rest would be short-lived because at 4:30 am I was awakened by the call to prayer as it echoed from one of the six minarets of the legendary, imperial Blue Mosque next door to our hotel in Sultanahmet:
Built between 1609 and 1616, it derives its name from the myriad blue iznik tiles which decorate its interior in the classic, an-iconic style of the Muslim world.
Though as lovely as the tiles are, nothing rivals its exterior, which to me ranks it among the most beautiful structures in existence.
Of course, out of respect (and requirement), I donned my headscarf before entering.
Far from oppressive, I found the scarf useful in providing protection from the brutal sun while simultaneously garnering me compliments (a good many Turks seem to think it makes a woman more lovely -- someone called me "Angelina Jolie" with it on, so must be true!) and, in the conservative East, respect. In Istanbul, itself, people wear everything from short-shorts to full abayas, like this woman:
And in case you're wondering about Islam in Turkey and the degree of conservatism within its ranks, it's important to point out that although the current political party is Islamic-based and 99% of the population Muslim, Turkey itself takes pride in its commitment to the secular ideals of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the founder of the modern Turkey. And while Turkey is, in many ways, a model for democracy in the Middle East and often feels similar to Europe in its Western reaches where tourism abounds and people enjoy a relatively high standard of living, it should also be pointed out that Turkey still has a long way to go. In rural towns and the country's vast Eastern reaches (which we will explore later) women still live difficult, cloistered lives; poverty and illiteracy remain high; and the human rights violations being carried out against its ethnic minorities are unconscionable.
I was by turns dazzled and devastated by what I saw; but for now, in Istanbul, I was able to enjoy a taste of the Middle East from the comfortable surrounds of Europe before easing into the East (AKA, Kurdistan), where few tourists dare to tread.
For even beyond the Blue Mosque, Istanbul has no shortage of glorious things to behold, from beautiful old cemeteries and mausoleums:
To the 5,000 year old obelisk in the hippodrome, brought to the city from Egypt by Constantine, himself.
And speaking of Romans, one of my favorite features of Istanbul are the ruins of its ancient Roman walls, doorways still intact, where people gather to have tea, explore, or feed the numerous stray cats which inhabit it.
Across from the Blue Mosque, though not as impressive on the outside, is the Haghia Sophia, a building which is the very definition of "beautiful on the inside."
Breathtakingly huge, the 6th Century Byzantine church-cum-mosque-cum-museum boasts an elaborate mix of its early Christian and Muslim influences in the form of frescoes, calligraphy, and the low, halo-like chandeliers characteristic of mosques.
(see the ancient graffiti on the marble ledge in the foreground)
After the Haghia Sophia, it was off to explore a bit of Topkapi Palace, the home of the Ottoman royals, but not before stopping to snap this shot of a man getting his sneakers polished:
Like everything in this city, they were to look shining and new. Indeed, such appears to be trend all over Turkey, even in the poorest, remotest reaches, they are obsessed with cleanliness. Shoes shined, cars and sidewalks constantly washed, crumbs swept from beneath your plate, and sanitizer perplexingly dumped into your hands by street children and restaurateurs alike.
That aside, Topkapi itself is impressive starting with its entrance and its uniquely European-meets-Arabesque design:
As soon as you emerge through the gates, a beautiful park is laid before you. Here, merchants would have come to hawk their wares outside the palace proper (indeed, they still do) and commoners could enjoy a bit of solitude near the busy port of the Bosporus. With the heat and the crowds, that was exactly what we did.
(bonus, plenty of friendly kitties to pet there, too!)
Unfortunately, as lovely and golden and many of the rooms and buildings were, they were simply too packed with people to get a clear shot. So, hot and tired, we made our way to the travel agency to pay the remainder of our balance (which, thanks to the plummeting of the dollar, made it the most expensive trip ever)and discuss the particulars of the private guide who would take us into the vast East once we left the Syrian border city of Urfa.
In the travel agency, a peculiar thing happened. A Turkish man popped in to say hello to one of the people who worked there and we just so happened to notice that he had a South Carolina shirt on. Inquiring further, we found that he lived half the year in Charleston, SC, and that he knew a friend of our friend, Ali (also a Turk and Sean's best friend). Sensing this was, to use a Turkish word, "kismet," he invited us back to his home with some friends to have tea.
As it turned out, he's a major rug manufacturer and antique textile collector, as was apparent by his home's decor:
(those are his sons in the photo)
(See the South Carolina symbol on his shirt?)
After talking and joking late into the evening, we decided to inquire about rugs -- as we understood they are one of Turkey's most famous exports and we saw this as an opportunity to have an authentic rug demonstration. We were not let down, we learned how to tell the fakes from the genuine, the synthetic dye from the natural, and so on. Knowing the price of a true carpet is sky-high, we avoided showing interest until he brought out a glorious, red and black 70-year-old rug from Iran. Impossible to get stateside due to trade restrictions with Iran, we asked a price. We negotiated. Hard. We caved.
Fortunately, there would be no regrets. After seeing two other rug demonstrations directed at tourists over the next few days, we realized that we indeed had gotten a great deal and made a new contact in Istanbul/Charleston, SC.
By now the hour was late, much money had been spent, and we had a 7:30 a.m. flight to Izmir. So it was back to our beautiful hotel room (complete with full balcony) to snooze until awakened by the pre-dawn peels of "Allahu akbar..." coming through the window:
Built between 1609 and 1616, it derives its name from the myriad blue iznik tiles which decorate its interior in the classic, an-iconic style of the Muslim world.
Though as lovely as the tiles are, nothing rivals its exterior, which to me ranks it among the most beautiful structures in existence.
Of course, out of respect (and requirement), I donned my headscarf before entering.
Far from oppressive, I found the scarf useful in providing protection from the brutal sun while simultaneously garnering me compliments (a good many Turks seem to think it makes a woman more lovely -- someone called me "Angelina Jolie" with it on, so must be true!) and, in the conservative East, respect. In Istanbul, itself, people wear everything from short-shorts to full abayas, like this woman:
And in case you're wondering about Islam in Turkey and the degree of conservatism within its ranks, it's important to point out that although the current political party is Islamic-based and 99% of the population Muslim, Turkey itself takes pride in its commitment to the secular ideals of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the founder of the modern Turkey. And while Turkey is, in many ways, a model for democracy in the Middle East and often feels similar to Europe in its Western reaches where tourism abounds and people enjoy a relatively high standard of living, it should also be pointed out that Turkey still has a long way to go. In rural towns and the country's vast Eastern reaches (which we will explore later) women still live difficult, cloistered lives; poverty and illiteracy remain high; and the human rights violations being carried out against its ethnic minorities are unconscionable.
I was by turns dazzled and devastated by what I saw; but for now, in Istanbul, I was able to enjoy a taste of the Middle East from the comfortable surrounds of Europe before easing into the East (AKA, Kurdistan), where few tourists dare to tread.
For even beyond the Blue Mosque, Istanbul has no shortage of glorious things to behold, from beautiful old cemeteries and mausoleums:
To the 5,000 year old obelisk in the hippodrome, brought to the city from Egypt by Constantine, himself.
And speaking of Romans, one of my favorite features of Istanbul are the ruins of its ancient Roman walls, doorways still intact, where people gather to have tea, explore, or feed the numerous stray cats which inhabit it.
Across from the Blue Mosque, though not as impressive on the outside, is the Haghia Sophia, a building which is the very definition of "beautiful on the inside."
Breathtakingly huge, the 6th Century Byzantine church-cum-mosque-cum-museum boasts an elaborate mix of its early Christian and Muslim influences in the form of frescoes, calligraphy, and the low, halo-like chandeliers characteristic of mosques.
(see the ancient graffiti on the marble ledge in the foreground)
After the Haghia Sophia, it was off to explore a bit of Topkapi Palace, the home of the Ottoman royals, but not before stopping to snap this shot of a man getting his sneakers polished:
Like everything in this city, they were to look shining and new. Indeed, such appears to be trend all over Turkey, even in the poorest, remotest reaches, they are obsessed with cleanliness. Shoes shined, cars and sidewalks constantly washed, crumbs swept from beneath your plate, and sanitizer perplexingly dumped into your hands by street children and restaurateurs alike.
That aside, Topkapi itself is impressive starting with its entrance and its uniquely European-meets-Arabesque design:
As soon as you emerge through the gates, a beautiful park is laid before you. Here, merchants would have come to hawk their wares outside the palace proper (indeed, they still do) and commoners could enjoy a bit of solitude near the busy port of the Bosporus. With the heat and the crowds, that was exactly what we did.
(bonus, plenty of friendly kitties to pet there, too!)
Unfortunately, as lovely and golden and many of the rooms and buildings were, they were simply too packed with people to get a clear shot. So, hot and tired, we made our way to the travel agency to pay the remainder of our balance (which, thanks to the plummeting of the dollar, made it the most expensive trip ever)and discuss the particulars of the private guide who would take us into the vast East once we left the Syrian border city of Urfa.
In the travel agency, a peculiar thing happened. A Turkish man popped in to say hello to one of the people who worked there and we just so happened to notice that he had a South Carolina shirt on. Inquiring further, we found that he lived half the year in Charleston, SC, and that he knew a friend of our friend, Ali (also a Turk and Sean's best friend). Sensing this was, to use a Turkish word, "kismet," he invited us back to his home with some friends to have tea.
As it turned out, he's a major rug manufacturer and antique textile collector, as was apparent by his home's decor:
(those are his sons in the photo)
(See the South Carolina symbol on his shirt?)
After talking and joking late into the evening, we decided to inquire about rugs -- as we understood they are one of Turkey's most famous exports and we saw this as an opportunity to have an authentic rug demonstration. We were not let down, we learned how to tell the fakes from the genuine, the synthetic dye from the natural, and so on. Knowing the price of a true carpet is sky-high, we avoided showing interest until he brought out a glorious, red and black 70-year-old rug from Iran. Impossible to get stateside due to trade restrictions with Iran, we asked a price. We negotiated. Hard. We caved.
Fortunately, there would be no regrets. After seeing two other rug demonstrations directed at tourists over the next few days, we realized that we indeed had gotten a great deal and made a new contact in Istanbul/Charleston, SC.
By now the hour was late, much money had been spent, and we had a 7:30 a.m. flight to Izmir. So it was back to our beautiful hotel room (complete with full balcony) to snooze until awakened by the pre-dawn peels of "Allahu akbar..." coming through the window: