Oct 16, 2007 15:52
we are in Konya, located in a high plain. At first glance , the chaos of commerce is crammed together within a maze of narrow streets. After closer inspection, order and reason can be seen by the centuries of doing. The cloth, hardware, tools, and food sales are clustered together. Competition is good business. We would stop and look at the odd, bizarre, and curious scenes as they presented themselves. On the walk in front of the cheese and olive store sat what looked like a 60 pound ball of fur. This was odd. We were about to leave when the proprieter came out, knife in hand. He cut a small flap and prıed out pieces of feta cheese from within. Good packaging- but İ felt a little queasy remembering that my piece of feta had been pressed up against a fairly fresh sebaceous goat tissue.
Konya was also the birth place of the Whırling Dervish. This was a powerful 12th century religious group whose monastic trade mark was to twirl endlessly in an almost ballerina fashion. They did the Dervish until it was outlawed by Ataturk in 1922. The pılgrims and the curious flock to the Dervish museum. İnsıde are the caskets of the founder and other famous Dervishes. The uniformly draped caskets are crowned with a tall, trademark, camel colored fez whose base is wrapped in a funerary shroud. İ won't poke fun at this one step dance that survived the centuries. İ was a Scientologist for a month.