Sojourn in Turkey, Day 6: Claros, Smyrna, and Sardis
This morning we were off to another early start to see some well-excavated sites that will help us put some of our Ephesian ruins into better context and sharper focus.
First was Claros, which was largely under water, because it's in a valley. We learned more about oracular temples and traditions. It turns out that this was a place in which young people were inculturated into Greco-Roman pagan tradition. Each town would send a delegation annually. Poets in each town would compose a new hymn to Apollo (cheif god at that temple) every year and pre-teen/ early teenage choirs would present the hymns at the festival. Then they would get their oracle and be on their merry way. The oracles were really interesting... you had to go into the basement, through a maze, and finally arrive at the spring or well where the oracle was located and after you asked your question, a prophet/ess would write down the answer. After taking pictures of Artemis's gigantic booies (they alone were taller than me), we found a turtle living in the water near the temple foundation. I decided that Oracle Turtle had told us Cjengis would make another archaeological find today.
Next it was Smyrna, in the modern town of Izmir. It wasn't well-preserved because of all the buildings built on top of it, so it didn't look particularly impressive. But it does have a well-preserved Agora, in which the Pauline community may have had its genesis in this city. We saw graffiti no younger than 178 CE! Our professors lectured on the Christian graffiti found there (it was covered up by a protective structure while it's excavated and preserved) and told us that this is the first Christian writing ever recorded! This is information that will not come out in academic journals until 3-5 years from now! Right as we were heading out, Cjengis stopped the site/ museum curator, who was there to make sure we weren't a tour group illegally having a lecture with an unauthorized guide. He (Cjengis) picked up a pestle that was separated from its mortar and told the curator, "Put this in the museum!" Did the oracle come true? Was this another one of his finds? You decide!
After that was the long bus ride into the mountains to see Sardis, which was the captital of the ancient kingom of Lydia. It was hard to find a place to eat, because in the off-season, all of the restaurants are closed. We finally found one outside of town. I had a delicious omelette topped with tomato, cucmber, and olives (big surprise). Renewed in energy and heart, we embarked upon the Sardis site to learn about the largest Jewish synagogue in the ancient world. It was very interesting, but there's a lot we still don't know. That this structure exists bursts wide open the myth that all Jews were discriminated against and reviled for their monotheistic beliefs. There's also an imperial eagle on the side of the altar, which shows that the commandments against syncretism ("No other gods before me... no graven images") were not necessarily followed literally in the Hellenistic context. Then we saw the Greek-style exercise grounds, huge "Emperor's room," and best-preserved Roman bath in the area. Quickly, we drove up the hill to see the temple of Athena at Sardis. Unfortunately, even Cjengis's connections couldn't get us in during its off-season time. Dr. Walters told us the story of the time that Ephesus sent a delegation to Sardis. The Sardinians rebuffed the Ephesians, and the delegation returned in shame, only to be put on trial for not achieving political diplomacy. We joked that the tradition continues!
Cold and wet from the mountain climate, we headed home to Selcuk. I grabbed some delicious take-out and went back to the library to study. Chicken shish, rice, bread, salad, and soda for less than $4.50 US? Yes, please! Ali even threw in a cup of apple tea for free! :o) He told me that word has gotten around town about us... the townspeople know the name of Dr. Walters, who comes often to study Epheus, and Cjengis of course (he knows everyone). They know that we're BU students and we're here to study history- not Christianity, which is controversial in this Muslim culture. A restaurant owner stopped Kelly today, because she was wearing a BU sweatshirt. Ali thinks we're polite and wants us to come buy his Pashminas, LOL. I'm pretty sure the bakery owner loves us too, because we return for baklava each night ($.40 for one piece, who wouldn't?).
The New Turkish Lira (YTL) continues to rise against the US dollar as our trip progresses. There's talk of shopping just to shop, because we want to spend the money we took out (a lot) in order to avoid losing cents converting it back to USD. It's amazing being here... I've never felt so rich in my life. Food is so cheap: expensive sandwiches are $2.50 USD and cheap ones are $.75. Everything here is cheap... I bought a hand-embroidered 100% linen shirt for only $11.18. At home in Cambridge, we spend 90% of our income just on rent. I have no buying power there. Here, not only do I have buying power, but I see the quality of life of the "average Turk." Buildings are not as well kept up here. Not every person has a car... some have mopeds and some just grab rides. Extended families live together in houses. Interestingly, there are no homeless people here. The sense of family obligation is such that everyone will provide housing for relatives in need, something that doesn't happen in the US. A case in point of this is the many homeless vets on the streets of Boston: because of PTSD or injuries in Iraq or Afghanistan, they are out of work and have nowhere to go. In Turkey, a relative, even a distant one, would take them in. Water heaters for individual houses here are tiny, and they're powered by solar energy. No doubt these folks wouldn't be able to pay for gas to heat that water. We have much to learn from Turkey. What would American society be like if we didn't insist that each person must have her/his own house and own car? How would our country look if we cared for our relatives and helped out each others' businesses instead of undermining them? There's a lot of cooperation here among businesses, unlike the American "every person for him/herself" mentality.
What if we were just satisfied with less stuff, less food, and less entertainment as we know it? What if we didn't go to the mall on the weekend or go to the movies once a month? What if we didn't eat at Max and Erma's? What if we all made our own food, played cards, and had conversations in the evenings and on the weekends? What if we used a weekend day for religious practice instead of soccer practice? I think that the Turks really have a good thing going here... we as Americans may not be experiencing life to the fullest because we're constantly busy and stressed. The pace of life here is more manageable, and the food is healthier. Our bodies would feel better if we took the time to cook food and eat it with friends and family. Our hearts would feel better too.
There's a lot more I could say about the Turkish economy, and what it's like to walk into this reality with the kind of amazing buying power that we have. The power dynamics here in that respect are downright embarrassing. But I won't go into American imperialism and how it's being expressed through the spread of capitalism right now... it's a big topic. I'll just say that I feel embarrassed a lot, realizing that I am a white person with comparatively lots of money walking into this small, struggling town. I feel embarrassed about complaining that I'm poor, even though in Boston my husband qualifies for food stamps (I don't- student status). We truly don't have much in America, comparatively. But dang, if I didn't expect to have a house and a car and a living room full of furniture and a full fridge and a washer/dryer, I would feel like I can do a lot more with my money. How do our cultural expectations of wealth and independence (isolation?) shape our lifestyle and how we see our socioeconomic status? In some ways I long for a simpler life, like the ones led by the folks in Selcuk and the mountain towns around Sardis. Paul may have said a lot of weird things with ascetic tendencies, but in a way he (and J. Christ) are right, in that it can be wayyyyy harder to see the truth of the Gospel when your vision is clouded by materialism.
First was Claros, which was largely under water, because it's in a valley. We learned more about oracular temples and traditions. It turns out that this was a place in which young people were inculturated into Greco-Roman pagan tradition. Each town would send a delegation annually. Poets in each town would compose a new hymn to Apollo (cheif god at that temple) every year and pre-teen/ early teenage choirs would present the hymns at the festival. Then they would get their oracle and be on their merry way. The oracles were really interesting... you had to go into the basement, through a maze, and finally arrive at the spring or well where the oracle was located and after you asked your question, a prophet/ess would write down the answer. After taking pictures of Artemis's gigantic booies (they alone were taller than me), we found a turtle living in the water near the temple foundation. I decided that Oracle Turtle had told us Cjengis would make another archaeological find today.
Next it was Smyrna, in the modern town of Izmir. It wasn't well-preserved because of all the buildings built on top of it, so it didn't look particularly impressive. But it does have a well-preserved Agora, in which the Pauline community may have had its genesis in this city. We saw graffiti no younger than 178 CE! Our professors lectured on the Christian graffiti found there (it was covered up by a protective structure while it's excavated and preserved) and told us that this is the first Christian writing ever recorded! This is information that will not come out in academic journals until 3-5 years from now! Right as we were heading out, Cjengis stopped the site/ museum curator, who was there to make sure we weren't a tour group illegally having a lecture with an unauthorized guide. He (Cjengis) picked up a pestle that was separated from its mortar and told the curator, "Put this in the museum!" Did the oracle come true? Was this another one of his finds? You decide!
After that was the long bus ride into the mountains to see Sardis, which was the captital of the ancient kingom of Lydia. It was hard to find a place to eat, because in the off-season, all of the restaurants are closed. We finally found one outside of town. I had a delicious omelette topped with tomato, cucmber, and olives (big surprise). Renewed in energy and heart, we embarked upon the Sardis site to learn about the largest Jewish synagogue in the ancient world. It was very interesting, but there's a lot we still don't know. That this structure exists bursts wide open the myth that all Jews were discriminated against and reviled for their monotheistic beliefs. There's also an imperial eagle on the side of the altar, which shows that the commandments against syncretism ("No other gods before me... no graven images") were not necessarily followed literally in the Hellenistic context. Then we saw the Greek-style exercise grounds, huge "Emperor's room," and best-preserved Roman bath in the area. Quickly, we drove up the hill to see the temple of Athena at Sardis. Unfortunately, even Cjengis's connections couldn't get us in during its off-season time. Dr. Walters told us the story of the time that Ephesus sent a delegation to Sardis. The Sardinians rebuffed the Ephesians, and the delegation returned in shame, only to be put on trial for not achieving political diplomacy. We joked that the tradition continues!
Cold and wet from the mountain climate, we headed home to Selcuk. I grabbed some delicious take-out and went back to the library to study. Chicken shish, rice, bread, salad, and soda for less than $4.50 US? Yes, please! Ali even threw in a cup of apple tea for free! :o) He told me that word has gotten around town about us... the townspeople know the name of Dr. Walters, who comes often to study Epheus, and Cjengis of course (he knows everyone). They know that we're BU students and we're here to study history- not Christianity, which is controversial in this Muslim culture. A restaurant owner stopped Kelly today, because she was wearing a BU sweatshirt. Ali thinks we're polite and wants us to come buy his Pashminas, LOL. I'm pretty sure the bakery owner loves us too, because we return for baklava each night ($.40 for one piece, who wouldn't?).
The New Turkish Lira (YTL) continues to rise against the US dollar as our trip progresses. There's talk of shopping just to shop, because we want to spend the money we took out (a lot) in order to avoid losing cents converting it back to USD. It's amazing being here... I've never felt so rich in my life. Food is so cheap: expensive sandwiches are $2.50 USD and cheap ones are $.75. Everything here is cheap... I bought a hand-embroidered 100% linen shirt for only $11.18. At home in Cambridge, we spend 90% of our income just on rent. I have no buying power there. Here, not only do I have buying power, but I see the quality of life of the "average Turk." Buildings are not as well kept up here. Not every person has a car... some have mopeds and some just grab rides. Extended families live together in houses. Interestingly, there are no homeless people here. The sense of family obligation is such that everyone will provide housing for relatives in need, something that doesn't happen in the US. A case in point of this is the many homeless vets on the streets of Boston: because of PTSD or injuries in Iraq or Afghanistan, they are out of work and have nowhere to go. In Turkey, a relative, even a distant one, would take them in. Water heaters for individual houses here are tiny, and they're powered by solar energy. No doubt these folks wouldn't be able to pay for gas to heat that water. We have much to learn from Turkey. What would American society be like if we didn't insist that each person must have her/his own house and own car? How would our country look if we cared for our relatives and helped out each others' businesses instead of undermining them? There's a lot of cooperation here among businesses, unlike the American "every person for him/herself" mentality.
What if we were just satisfied with less stuff, less food, and less entertainment as we know it? What if we didn't go to the mall on the weekend or go to the movies once a month? What if we didn't eat at Max and Erma's? What if we all made our own food, played cards, and had conversations in the evenings and on the weekends? What if we used a weekend day for religious practice instead of soccer practice? I think that the Turks really have a good thing going here... we as Americans may not be experiencing life to the fullest because we're constantly busy and stressed. The pace of life here is more manageable, and the food is healthier. Our bodies would feel better if we took the time to cook food and eat it with friends and family. Our hearts would feel better too.
There's a lot more I could say about the Turkish economy, and what it's like to walk into this reality with the kind of amazing buying power that we have. The power dynamics here in that respect are downright embarrassing. But I won't go into American imperialism and how it's being expressed through the spread of capitalism right now... it's a big topic. I'll just say that I feel embarrassed a lot, realizing that I am a white person with comparatively lots of money walking into this small, struggling town. I feel embarrassed about complaining that I'm poor, even though in Boston my husband qualifies for food stamps (I don't- student status). We truly don't have much in America, comparatively. But dang, if I didn't expect to have a house and a car and a living room full of furniture and a full fridge and a washer/dryer, I would feel like I can do a lot more with my money. How do our cultural expectations of wealth and independence (isolation?) shape our lifestyle and how we see our socioeconomic status? In some ways I long for a simpler life, like the ones led by the folks in Selcuk and the mountain towns around Sardis. Paul may have said a lot of weird things with ascetic tendencies, but in a way he (and J. Christ) are right, in that it can be wayyyyy harder to see the truth of the Gospel when your vision is clouded by materialism.