reveries in the thrice-named city

2006-12-11T17:35:00.000-08:00

The American withdrawal from Iraq could be a deadly instance of history repeating itself: a letter to the editor of the Economist magazine (not published)

The recent Baker-Hamilton Iraq study group report is optimistic in its recommendations for withdrawal of nearly all American troops by early 2008. It seeks to use this deadline as a bolster that will motivate the Iraqi government to step up their efforts to take over the counties security responsibility. However, following the recommendations as stated could cause the United States to come frighteningly close to repeating history.

A premature departure from the conflict will likely have the same result as the Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan in 1989. Firstly, the Soviets left an incredibly volatile country that erupted into several years of debilitating civil war due to sectarian violence, warlords and a rag-tag collection of left over Arab insurgents. The result of this is well known- a perfect breeding ground for radical Islamic ideology and terrorist training camps. The second potential parallel is that Soviet withdrawal was trumpeted as a great defeat of an infidel superpower by the Mujahideen insurgents. This defeat greatly emboldened their cause, giving them much greater clout and support for operations against the next superpower they were to topple. If the region falls into chaos and another sectarian civil war, Osama bin Laden and his supporters and followers will inevitably see it as a sign of the righteousness of their cause, which will in turn solidify a much more substantial support base from the hundreds of thousands of Muslims that are on the fence about the Islamic radical’s strategy and ideology.

A change in policy is certainly needed, but if the recommendations for a 2008 withdrawal of forces are to be implemented, the government must be sure that the Iraqi forces will be able to take over, or else the recent history of the American-Middle East conflict will be played over again.

2006-12-11T17:30:00.000-08:00

The Reveries Takes on a New Life and New Focus

It has been a few months now since I returned from my trip to Turkey. As such I have not felt the need to continue to post articles and updates on this site. Yet, fate has called me to travel once more to the Middle East for a radically different purpose. For this reason I feel the call to write about my experiences and comment on the political environment that I will be immersed in once again. I feel, though, that this time what I will be involved in will be much more serious and noteworthy as I will be directly participating in a major historical event. This new heightened seriousness has also inspired me to study the conflict in Afghanistan and the surrounding region with more gusto and deliberate intent. The result of this is that I will use this forum to self-publish more writings on political and military commentary on the conflicts in the Middle East. I have also begun to publish more on Christian subjects, most recently for the magazine Christian Weekly. What follows will be a stepping off point for a potentially productive hobby as a columnist and political/military commentator.

2006-08-14T04:34:00.000-07:00

Leaving Istanbul

My heart was certainly heavy as I took the final metro ride to the airport. I had an extraordinary time and saw numerous amazing things. It was a remarkable learning experience, one in which I collected a number of impressions that I am sure will be with me for the rest of my life. On the other hand, I found, as I am sure many travelers do, that I was getting slightly weary of the language barrier and the difficulty of conducting simple tasks. I was also getting a little lonely as I had not really spent any significant time with family and friends for almost seven months. In addition, I was getting anxious to come back and start working again. I had an abundance of time to reflect and relax so the draw of productive enterprise was a feeling of growing urgency. Yet, it was still difficult to leave as I was having to say good bye to Sirin.
The departure itself was a most miserable and frustrating affair. When I got to passport control I was made to scurry all over the airport to pay a 94 YTL (lira) fine for being one day late. As I was doing this I was loosing my mind with the absurdity and frustration of the exercise, especially as it was encroaching on my ability to catch my flight on time. Fortunately Sirin kept her head and got me through, but as usual, the people that we were dealing with spoke to her in Turkish, so not only were we put through this miserable affair, but I really did not know what was going on. She definitely showed her strength at this moment.
Shortly after I got on the plane there was a general announcement that the plane was indefinitely delayed, although we were not told the reason. After waiting two hours we were then instructed to leave the plane and were poorly directed to a place for ‘complimentary refreshments’. Still not knowing anything, we were then told that we had two options, to cancel our flight or be taken to a hotel to wait until tomorrow, as the flight was cancelled. I shouldn’t say that we were told, it was actually what we gathered from talking to each other and grilling the clerks who were doing whatever they could to avoid talking to us. From that point on we were told basically nothing and had to discover any information ourselves. As I had a couple of connections, there was no way that I could cancel, so my only choice was to wait. I tried to get some information about some possible other options, as I did not need to go to England nor the airport that was closed, but by that time the airline (British Airways) had abandoned us to a local company who could barely speak English and knew nothing. All they were to do was to bring us our luggage and bring us to the hotel, which was a slow, laborious and disorganized affair. The hotel was nice, but it felt like a prison because we could not really go anywhere for fear that we would miss some important information which never really came. Later on in the night I received a couple of notes under my door telling me to be ready at 5 to be brought to the airport. The next day I did manage to get to the airport on time and caught a 12 hour flight from Istanbul to Chicago (why couldn’t I have gotten on a flight like that the day before?). I ended up safely in Winnipeg latter on that very long day (I gained 8 hours, so the day was 8 hours longer than a normal day). From there I had to immediately drive to Regina, for my brother was getting married the next day. So after 32 hours of continuous travel I arrived in Regina and managed to get a couple of hours sleep before the wedding. I know- I shouldn’t have left coming home to the last minuet.

General Impressions

Because Turkey was the first place I have been to outside of North America, she inevitably bares the brunt of not only my impressions of her, but also of international travel in general. Therefore many of the joys and frustrations I had there are more than likely similar to what they would be in other countries. But as I lack the basis of comparison I can’t help but attributing them to Turkey.
First of all I experienced incredible hospitality. Many people were excessively generous even if they did not have abundant means. On the other hand there was also a persistent dishonesty amongst the merchants and restaurateurs, which regularly left me with that empty feeling of being ripped off, and caused me to be far more guarded and distrustful than I normally like to be. However, I think that part of it was that the manner of buying and selling goods is probably the one aspect of their society that differs the most from ours, so it was one thing that I never quite became accustom to. There are few price tags on things, which leave the merchant an extra advantage of judging what they think they can get from the tourist. On our part we really need to know what things are worth, which is hard to because we can’t see the prices anywhere, which means we have to be constantly asking, which is subtly discouraged, for if you talk to anyone they pressure you to buy the product from them.
In some places the country is extremely beautiful, for the actual area is probably one of the most perfect places to live geographically, agriculturally and climactically (which accounts for why there have been so many wars fought there for the territory). Nevertheless, the country is best with all the other problems associated with over population: including crowding, garbage everywhere, endless urban sprawl, and thousands of unfinished buildings. A good part of it feels like one is living in a construction zone.
Most of the people that I talked to generally liked it as I did, but also notice the same problems. I would recommend traveling there as I think it is still relatively undiscovered compared to the rest of Europe. I will likely try and go back myself, although it will take a while to overcome the bitterness I developed based on my experience leaving. I got the impression that they are not too fond of Canadians as our travel visa was two or three times as much as the next country and I am sure that the fiasco that I had to deal with was due to my being Canadian.
I have really enjoyed writing this blog as it gave me a chance to share some of the remarkable things I saw and did with others, giving me a greater sense of connectedness with my friends and family whom I missed dearly. It also gave me a chance to reflect on what I was seeing and doing, which helped make it a richer experience. And finally it helped me to recognize a newly found enjoyment in photography, which I hope to expand in the coming years.
If this is the first entry you are reading I would suggest going back to the vary start and selectively go through the entries that interest you most. I don’t expect anyone accept my mother to be interested in everything, but I am sure that there are things here that would interest most people that know me.

2006-08-04T22:47:00.000-07:00

St. Mary’s Home

I almost did not go to the site recognized by both the Catholic and Orthodox Churches as the final home of St. Mary. It is a few kilometers up a mountain from Seljuk and the only way a person can get there is either a taxi or a tour, that is unless a person has a car. So when Sirin and I rented a car for one day, it was the natural first stop on our trip. I expected it to be incredibly busy and crowded, but it was actually only moderately busy, so I was able to go into the house and say a few short prayers in relative peace. It was a fairly small house without much to really see, but the presence there was strong, leaving a person with the sense that something out of the ordinary belonged there. The one notably out of place thing was the numerous Jandarma around the building with their trademark submachine guns and funny looking berets. I suppose that security is important, but I don’t suspect that this would be a place that Islamists would target as St. Mary is also revered by them.

2006-08-04T10:55:00.000-07:00

Priene- Miletus- Didyma

Within a few Kilometers of the famous ruins of Ephesus are the ancient cities of Priene and Miletus and the temple of Apollo at Didyma. These cities were originally founded prior to the Persian occupation of Asia Minor in the 6th century B.C. These and 9 others in this region formed an Ionian League, but were nonetheless defeated and subsumed into the Persian Empire. Afterwards, on account of Alexander’s liberation of the Greek city states in Asia Minor in the 4th century, the cities experienced a rebirth, resulting in the ruins that exist today. All three of these ancient Ionian cities that I have seen were originally sea ports, but due to silting, they are now a fair distance from the sea, and as such they gradually lost their importance. Izmir, which was once Smyrna, is still by the sea, and is a large port town, but there are almost no traces of its historical past as a result.

PRIENE
The first one I saw was Priene. It was notable as an early example of geometrical street systems and city planning. It was not an important ancient city, but there were a number of ruins, which greatly aided the imagination in reconstructing the ancient settlement.

a small theatre

A few remaining pilars to the Temple of Athena

MILETUS
A few kilometers from Priene is the site of the once famous city of Miletus. It was an important city in its day, but it is remembered most for being the home to the most important school of philosophy in Asia Minor. Some important pre-Socratics came from here including Thales and Anaximander. There was not much of the old city remaining aside from the Theater, which was quite large. We did, however, receive some lavender from a local shepherd who grazes his sheep there and supposedly knows the site better than nearly anyone alive.

Baths of Faustina

Another Temple of Athena

The temple from another angle

This theatre was massive and was designed to hold animal fights and gladiator contests

DYDIMA

Didyma was an incredible spectacle. It was a Temple of Apollo 20 km from Miletus. In its day it was the second most important place for oracles next to Delphi, as Apollo was the god of Prophecy. Those who came for prophetic utterances would make a sacrifice in Miletus and then walk to Didyma to inquire of the oracle. What made it amazing to see is that it was by and large in tact, many of the pillars have fallen, but the basic floor plan has remained undisturbed. The pillars were unbelievably huge and for those that were still standing, remarkably tall. The temple was almost the same size as the Temple of Artemis, so one could use this temple as a reference.
Inside the temple

A small car could fit on one of these

The famous relief of Apollo

A view of the columns

2006-08-04T00:22:00.000-07:00

Ephesus

A small remnant of the Temple of Hadrian

I am getting to the point in my trip where I am seeing so many things that if I were to give a detailed account I would surely loose the interest of my readers. In the last week I have seen a plethora of novel things, had numerous little adventures, some high and low times, and stumbled upon some real mysteries. What I what to focus on in the next few short pieces is some of the reasons why a person would want to come here and what they can see, for there are some things that I have seen that I had no idea existed here.

Ephesus was one of the major centers of the ancient world and was an important place for the birth of Christianity. St. John is said to have retired here and wrote his Gospel, Letters, and Apocalypse here. It is also the best preserved ancient Greek/ Roman city in existence today. Normally this means that it is unbearably crowded, as it is one of the key sites in Turkey that everyone sees, but I was fortunate to receive some good advice and came later in the day when there were not nearly as many people.

Part of the ruins of the first ever church dedicated to St. Mary. The presence of this church is one of the reasons that theybelieve that St. Mary must have lived here.

The Library of Celsus- One of the most remarkable things I have seen

A statue of sophia (wisdom) on the outer wall of the library

The remains of the once magnificent Trajan's Fountian

A bust of Socrates in the Museum

One pillar to represent the Temple of Artemis (one of the seven wonders of the ancient world)

The famous statue of Artemis that would have been in the temple

Some storkes nested on a pillar outside my hotel window- a delightful distraction

2006-07-31T10:50:00.000-07:00

On Being a Traveler

As I have been visiting some of the most splendid monuments of glorious civilizations, I have also been struggling to find the proper state of mind. I am sensitive enough to realize that the places I am seeing are more than just good locations to have my picture taken, but at the same time I feel that there is a great significance that I am not fully able to appreciate. Many of the travelers I see spend a good deal of time with their faces shoved in their guide books as they try to decipher what they are seeing. In a way that seems like the proper effort, but in doing so I think that they miss the splendor at the price of a morsel of understanding. It is somewhat like going to a liturgy and spending the whole service plastered to the service book without taking the time to absorb the images or meditate on the music.
I think part of the difficulty has to do with being a traveler as opposed to being a tourist or a pilgrim. A tourist travels in large groups and sees a good many things without really having the time to pay attention to any of it. They glide along from one site to another in their air-conditioned buses during the day and spend the night in expensive hotels and restaurants. They don’t interact with the locals much but they do spend a lot of money. This group, however, does not need to interact with the history or the locals, for they are there on a vacation, and the number one imperative for them is to see a number of splendors and to relax. They have a hassle free good time appropriate to their intentions and they sink a substantial sum of money into the economy.
The pilgrim, on the other hand, goes to a specific place for a specific purpose and attaches a great significance to that place. They expect that there is something magical or miraculous about it and that this magic will somehow impart itself onto them. They are ardent believers in supernatural forces and go to places where they believe those forces are particularly strong. However, I believe that the pilgrim is almost non-existent in the modern world, for even the most sincere believers of a particular faith no longer really prescribe to the notion of magical places or healing waters per say, at least in Christianity, for pilgrimages are an important part of Islam as they once were for Christianity.
The traveler is somewhere in between the two, although there are many different types of travelers as well. For the most part they don’t have a great deal of money. They often try to get employment in the countries that they are seeing, but this is by no means a rule. They are usually searching for something authentic without the trapping of superstition that the former are frequently accused of. They want to get to know the people, although this can sometimes be another trapping into a false sense of sincerity. It is impossible to really get to know a people unless you both suffer and celebrate with them, and it is hard to do this unless you are quite intimate with them. This means that you have to be willing to give up some of the privilege that you come with and to really humble yourself. I have seen few that have been able to actually do this, for it takes a great deal of time. I have met people who have been living in Istanbul for a number of years who still rarely interact with the inhabitants aside from their professional activity.
These things being said, for the traveler, as I identify myself, seeing sites can be a interesting problem for those who are sensitive. Seeing the places as neither truly sacred nor profane, we are in an ambiguous position. As such I have heard a lot of travelers speak of the sites as they would a movie (tourists on the other hand find everything absolutely wonderful unless the toilets weren’t clean or the walk was too steep). Because the sites are there to be passively observed there is no real way for the visitor to interact or engage with what they are seeing. The only recourse that we have is our imagination, which cannot properly function if it is too crowded or if we are not sufficiently educated on the place (and the cheap tourist books are not an education).
Of course there is the sheer aesthetic wonder of these places, but that too is somewhat abstract. Buildings can only ever be half beautiful apart from the context that they were built in. For example one can go to the most splendid churches, but the splendor of the church is only half of the whole, for the building was built to have music played, prayers chanted, people gathered. So just seeing the building one only gets a real fraction of the complete process. The problem with traveling is that we can get a false sense that in seeing this fraction, which is all that is left, that we understand the whole. For myself, the problem is that in only seeing a fraction I become painfully aware that there is so much that I am missing and can never have access to. I am not walking the crowded streets of Ephesus during the height of its glory, filled with massive statues and temples to the point of absurdity, I only see where these things would have been. Nor am I able to attend the Liturgy in Hagia Sophia as such a time when visitors reported that they believed that they were actually in heaven. I suppose, though, that this is a perennial problem of history, for so much requires an active imagination to fill the spaces between the corporeal materials that our ancestors have left for us to ponder.
I suppose my resolve to this conundrum, if a resolve is possible or necessary, is to see the sights as they are: magnificent piles of rocks, or glorious monuments to God and human ingenuity. Seeing these things can help me with my historical understanding, for a lot can be learned from the geography, the climate and so on. These climates demand certain habits no matter if one is a Turk, a Greek, a Roman, a Persian. That being said perhaps I should just do what the locals do and spend the rest of my time at the beach.

2006-07-28T22:49:00.000-07:00

Pergamum

After Assos my next big stop was Pergamum, or the modern city of Bergama. Pergamum was a very important city in the ancient world, especially pertaining to the Roman occupation of Asia Minor, as it was a capital. Now it is a small and rather poor city. It is not really a tourist city, as is it is not on the coast, and the big tourist buses tend to say at water front resorts in the evenings. It is also often altogether skipped, which is a shame, for it is an excellent site with a good deal to see. There are two main areas for ruins- the Acropolis and the Asclepium (healing center), which are quite a distance from each other.
It is a so infrequently visited place that most of the major bus companies don’t actually stop in the city; rather they drop you off a few kilometers outside of town to wait for a mini-bus. When I got off the bus I noticed another couple departing at the same time. It turned out that not only were they from Canada, but they were from Winnipeg. After some brief introductory questions we found out that of course we knew some of the same people, which is almost always going to be the case with people from Winnipeg. I spent the afternoon touring the Asclepium with them then we met again for a Turkish super. Unfortunately we could not find any good restaurants where we were looking, for it wasn’t until I had been there for a while that I found the better ones. It was great for me to have the company, for there is often an immediate comfort and trust that one feels towards people from one’s home town. It was also a great chance for me to share some of my reflections about Turkey, for they had only been in the country for a short time and were very curious. They were only staying for one night, which was unfortunate because I missed the company, and they missed a chance to see a great historical site.
The second day I got up as early as I could and walked the 7km up the hill to the acropolis. I figured that was how the original inhabitants got there, and I was too cheap to get a cab. The site was marvelous and very quite. I was able to take my time and wander around the various levels without having my meditation disrupted by crowds. The panoramic view was also spectacular, as the Greeks had a great sense of finding scenic sites to build temples.
I am finding that there are generally a few typical things that one will find in these ancient cities: baths, a public fountain, a gymnasium, a senate house, a theatre, perhaps a few houses, defense walls, a promenade, remains of a Byzantine Church and of course the remnants of a temple to the patron god or goddess of the city. The following are some of those that I saw in Pergamum.

Baths at the Asclepium

Part of a temple to Trajan

Part of a temple to Athena

more columns

A walk way under the temple

A promenade. Originally the pillars would have contained statues (many of which are now in Berlin)

One the third day I did not do much, the only thing I saw was the Red Basilica. This was a notable thing to see, though for it perfectly represented the succession of religions in the area. Originally there was a massive temple to the Egyptian god Serapis. The inner sanctuary was then converted into a very large Byzantine Basilica, which may have been one of the largest of its day. Off to the side, in what would have been a chapel or something of that sort, there is a small mosque that is still in use today although it looks quite decrepit.

These are two photos taken from inside the basilica

I spent three days there, which gave me an excellent chance to catch up on some reading and writing, and to get to know the owners of the pension a little. They were some of the most hospitable pension owners I have met so far in Turkey. I am learning that what makes a trip enjoyable and a place memorial is not necessarily the sites but the people as well. Bergama is not an exciting city and it is very poor (there are many people who use horse drawn carts as their primary mode of transportation), however I did not have a single hassle there and felt very comfortable. I am now in the tourist town of Seljuk (adjacent to the ruins of Ephesus) and I am finding it almost the opposite. It is true that there are more impressive things to see, but here nearly everyone I have had to deal with is a little shifty and I have ran into numerous conmen. On the surface this is a far nicer place, but at this point I am finding that sincere and genuine people are more worth meeting then fantastic ruins are worth seeing.

2006-07-28T00:14:00.000-07:00

Entering Assos

So far nearly every time that I leave Istanbul I pass through Cannakale at some point. My current trip is no exception as it was the first evening’s destination. I am not in anyway complaining, as I really like the city. It is a really nice midsize city with good, cheap food, genuine people and a great waterfront walk. It is the base for Australian travelers who come for their pilgrimage to Gallipoli, so I think the local economy reaps considerable benefits from this arrangement.
I only stayed there because I could not get to my intended destination before it got too late. The focus of this trip is ancient Roman and Greek cities of the Aegean coast. For the most part the things I have seen have been from the Byzantium Church period, but now I am going back even further to the Hellenistic world with its pillared temples dedicated to the Olympian gods.
Assos was my first stop. It is an out of the way place that is often overlooked by most tours and backpackers. I will admit that it does not occupy a terribly significant place in ancient history, especially compared to Pergamum or Ephesus. However, for the romantic interested in ancient philosophy it is a significant stop, for it was a place where Aristotle lived for three years during his biological studies. For Church history it was also known as a place that St. Paul met St. Luke before they voyaged to Lesbos, which is just a couple kilometers off the coast. It has also been on my mind for a while for it is the location of an annual philosophy conference that I was hoping to go to but was prevented, for it corresponded with the last class for my private class.

You can see part of Lesbos through the window of the wall (I would ove to visit some of these Greek islands but they are not so easy to get to from Turkey)

The town itself it actually called Behramkale, and it is another peasant village where the tourists and villagers peacefully clash. Actually, there were not that many tourists. It is a place that wealthy Turks go for a seaside holiday, and it is generally neglected by the backpackers. I can see why. The affordable pensions are on the hilltop which is quite a walk to the harbor (there was also a beach that I did not discover until I left).

Ampitheatre (one of several that I will see)

The ruins, like Cappadocia, were divided into the free and the paid portions. The paid portion on the very top was not spectacular, but the view was astounding. There were not that many people there, so I could take my time and allow my imagination to set in. The ruins on the side of the hill, including the gymnasium where Aristotle taught, were actually a goat pasture; I was pretty much the only person there. As you can tell from the pictures the ruins, especially the wall and the theatre are well reconstructed, greatly assisting the imagination in its own reconstruction work.

The harbor was incredibly picturesque, but also quite posh (on the way in I saw a small caravan of BMWs).

In sum it was a very nice place, and I should have stayed longer than a day and a half. For some reason I felt drawn to carry on. I am in Bergama now, so there is more to follow.

2006-07-27T12:32:00.000-07:00

The mountian monestary

Anatolian Tour

After a long and tiring overnight bus trip, I entered one of the most indescribable places I had ever seen (therefore I shall try to describe it). However, before I get into the magical land of Cappadocia, I should justify the bus system here. I would not have been as fresh after such a trip in Canada because the buses are generally more comfortable here. They are more spacious, with actual en route service of cake and coffee and the occasional water. Nevertheless, 12 hours on the bus is 12 hours on the bus.
Cappadocia is one the natural wonders of the Anatolian region and the world for that matter. Formed from prehistoric volcanic ash, it contains unique rock formations that are relatively easy to carve into. With even modest tools and a lot of persistence anyone can work away at them and burrow oneself a little dwelling, which is exactly what thousands of people have done throughout the centuries.
Like most regions and cities, this one has been both at the heights and the depth of prominence. On the eastern boundary of the regions lies Kayseri, which was the once famous city of Caesareia. It was the Christian monks and hermits, though, which gave the region its distinct flavour and character. For several hundreds of years, pilgrims flocked to this region in search of semi-solitude and Christian community. Along side the rock houses are also numerous cave churches, some of which even contain traces of ancient frescoes and other signs of worship. In the open air museum, for example, there are dozens of little churches in a very condensed area.
When we arrived at our little cave pension (guesthouse) we were met with a very friendly Turkish man with excellent English. He brought us back to his place and welcomed us with a tea and a not so subtle sales pitch for a couple of different day tours. At first I did not mind but as we got used to being there we realized that selling the tours was one of the millions of little ways that the merchants there get their money. It was not a big deal though, as the tour was a reasonably good deal.
I have mixed feelings about tours. If you get a good guide it can be a truly rewarding time, but if not, one can feel a little rushed. However, in places such as Cappadocia getting around to see all of the interesting places is hard unless you have a car and a good map. The tour then acts as a convenient form of transportation.
As Sirin needed the rest I went out and ventured on my own to the general area that the cave dwellings were. When I reached the top of the valley where the open air museum is located I realized that there were places to see both on the right and on the left of the road. The place on the right cost money, so I went left to hike around the caves and rocks there. I learned a valuable lesson in this, one that has not has a counter instance to prove it wrong yet: where one has to pay, one will find the tourists, where one can see things for free one will be left alone. Therefore I had a wonderful time wandering around and exploring the caves on my own, forming a delightful first impression. It was being like a kid again. I would sometimes have to climb or crawl to get into them, and I would become overjoyed when I would find one that was still relatively in tact. Sometimes I would sit and imagine what it would have been like when people lived there, and sometimes I would say a few prayers, as some of the places I found were old chapels.
I kept my adventurous wanderings relatively short, for I did not want to leave my travel companion unharassed for too long.

Some cave dwellings

Cave Chapel Frescoes (again no flashes)

In the evening we explored the town a little. It is a remarkable place, for there is a complete contrast between the tourists and all the shops and restaurants they patronize, and the local peasants who still dressed and maintained the same habits that people have been keeping in that area from time immemorial. On the way to our cave pension, for example, sometimes the narrow road would be blocked by someone’s shipment of straw, and there was one time where one of the other travelers was chased by rooster for trying to imitate them. Right next to the pension a number of old women would sit on the ground and work away at some craft with their colorful scarves and dresses. Inside their houses we could see that there was pretty much no furniture and no other ornaments or decoration.

The Village of Goreme

The region was quite poor, for the farming was bad and for those who weren’t in the tourism business there was no other way to make money. Many people still lived in houses that were carved out of the side of a cliff. What struck me the most, however, was that they seemed to carry on with their lives entirely unaffected by the numerous strange foreigners that were wandering around everywhere. I imagine that the town has become completely transformed in the last few years as tourism has been introduced into the area, but for those that have been their all of their lives, they just carry on with things as it has always been. Though, I am sure that when the old men get together to have their morning afternoon and evening tea the talk about it constantly.
The following day we gathered our strength and went on the tour of the area. I will not bore you with the details. It was a reasonably good tour in so far as it covered a lot of things in a short time, things we would have not been able to see on our own without at least three days. The highlights for me were the underground city that was used as a hiding place against the many invaders that swept through the area, and the mountain side monastery. We also saw an interesting family pottery business that had some of the most remarkable things I have seen. I was a bit put off though, for in the advertisement it was promised that there would be no shopping, which is another way that the tours make their money.

One of many examples of excellent Turkish craftmanship

Underground city (not a great place for pictures but a wonder for the imagination)

The next day we saw the amazing churches in the open air museum. Unfortunately it was absolutely overrun with tourists. Two of the persistent themes for me as a tourist has been a dislike of other tourists, especially crowds and an in ability to put myself in the proper mindset to visit sacred sites; the two problems work together. How is one really able to enter into the contemplative spirit in which such churches were built while surrounded by people gawking and taking pictures of themselves by every little scrap of antiquity, as though they will be edified on account of proximity. I suppose this is the natural effect of state control of the heritage sites of foreign religions. It is the right of conquest I suppose, and to be fair, they do upkeep them rather well.

Characteristic Fairy Chimnies

Open Air Museum (before the crowds)

This basically concluded our tour of Cappadocia. I would have loved to have stayed several more days, but there are so many things to see, and we did not have unlimited time. We took another night bus, this time to Antalya for the seaside portion of our journey.

An old palace gate in Olympus

Antalya is one of the larger cities in the country and it is renowned for being a great holiday spot as there are numerous small resorts on both sides of the city. The place we choose was the site of the ancient city of Olympus. It was not a significant city, but had some excellent ruins. What was most important though, was that there was an excellent beach. The village itself was just a string of pensions along the valley leading to the beach. They were quite rustic, just a number of small, quickly slapped together cabins set in lemon orchards, a perfect place for a relaxing holiday by the beach. It was remarkably similar to places in BC, such as the Slocan valley or some of the gulf islands. It would have been heaven for me ten years ago.

Ruins of Olympus by a natural spring

A great view of the beach taken from the Acroplis

We spent just shy of two days there: relaxing by the beach; getting sunburned; playing tavla (backgammon); swimming in the Mediterranean; exploring the ruins. If anyone reading this intends on going to Turkey, they should definitely consider Olympus, especially in the off season, when the weather is still great but it is much less crowded.
After two relaxing days we went back to Istanbul on the third overnight bus trip in a week. As some of you know, I cannot sleep on buses, so the rest in between was much needed. I had one night back in Istanbul, then back on the road where I am now. More to follow…

2006-07-26T11:42:00.000-07:00

The Marmara Trip
A reconstruction of the entrance to the old city walls in Bursa

The whole affair started rather sluggishly as I was a complete beginner in regard to solo travel by bus in Turkey. Following good advice, I went to Beshiktash to find a bus company that was going to Iznik (Nicaea). Unfortunately I was not able to express myself clearly, and the helpful people working at these offices only sent me on a proverbial goose chase. In frustration I decided to go to the main bus station to see if I could navigate my way better there, as the best I could decipher with the local company offices was that there was no buses to my intended destination, which I suspected to be contrary to my best reckoning. However, having never been to the bus station as my own guide, and having not brought a map of Istanbul, thinking that I would not need it, I got a little lost on the way. Fortunately I did eventually manage to find my way, also seeing some of the old city walls at the same time. Upon arriving at the bus station I was again overwhelmed because, as the bus companies are privatized here, there is not one place to go for a ticket, one has to inquire at the many different offices. I went to the first one that I saw with a destination relatively close to where I was going. The helpful man at the ticket booth indicated that I wouldn’t able to get a bus to the destination I desired, but would have to transfer to a nearby town and take a small bus from there. Afterwards I was told that in fact there were direct buses to Iznik, just not with that company. So following the best advice I could procure at the time, I got on a bus to a place called Orhangazi, which incidentally I have still not been able to find on any map, so I am not sure that it exists.
The ride was long, taking two hours to get out of Istanbul alone. The one redeeming part was an unexpected ferry across the Marmara. I am coming to really enjoy the ferry rides. As I was unsure where Orhangazi was, I was a bit apprehensive about getting off at the wrong place. Eventually we entered a town that I suspected of being Orhangazi on account of some signs that I saw as we entered. The bus did not actually stop there; it just pulled over so as to let the required passengers off. I got off and tried to confirm with the bus steward that I was in the right place, but he drove off before I had a chance to get his attention. Fortunately it was the right place, so I needed to find a small shuttle to Iznik.
At this point I was away from English speaking touristy areas, so my broken and entirely inadequate Turkish with vigorous body language was to be my means of communicating. After waiting in vain under a sign saying Iznik, I decided/ was prompted to get some advice (Sirin was calling fairly regularly to prevent me from doing stupid like hitchhiking which I contemplated more than once). The best that I could gather from the ticket agent was that I was to go a block down the street and wait for a bus there. Unfortunately there was no bus stop per say, although it was clear that this was the way to Iznik. I decided to walk for a while, reckoning on doing some reconnaissance to see what I could discover. I found nothing, but felt that in the morning I would have a better chance as it was getting dark.
Feeling confident that I made the right decision, I wandered into town to find a hotel for the evening. I am still baffled that I could not find it on the map as the city was substantial, possibly close to 50,000 based on the number of large buildings. I don’t think that it is much of a tourist spot as I could not find much in the way of lodgment, although it may have been an important place, as the region is know as the birthplace of the Ottoman dynasty, and the city is named after the son of the founder. Wandering through town I saw a typical evening here; old men sitting around talking and drinking tea; women with head scarves walking with their children; young men standing around waiting for something, looking bored. The one thing that did strike me about this particular place was that there was an abundance of internet cafes full of people. They certainly are not uncommon here, but not in this concentration. I did end up finding a reasonable and clean place to stay at 10 lira a night, which is about 7 Canadian dollars.
The next day I got up fairly early to head off to Iznik, which was my whole point for being in that area in the first place. I went back to the spot I was told to go the day before, and this time there were others waiting for something that I correctly assumed was the bus. As I was waiting I saw a number of farm trucks drive past with loads of old women in the back on their way to the fields to start their days work. On my way to Iznik I got a chance to see rural peasantry for pretty much the first time, for this is a completely a bygone thing in Canada.

St. Sophia, the ruins of an ancient church in Nicaea

I suppose that many of you are wondering why I am so intent to get to this place called Iznik, which I imagine that most of you have never heard of. In Turkey there are numerous cities or towns that were at one time extremely important sites that are now relatively obscure. Iznik is one of the key examples of this. There are probably no more than 20, 000 inhabitants in this quiet town on the side of a lake. But in ancient Byzantium it was an extremely important city, the one in which the first tenants of Christianity were discussed and agreed upon. In the fourth century the Church was in the midst of a crisis that threatened to split it, beginning the factionary process a thousand years earlier than history intended. In order to avert this unfortunate calamity, the great first Emperor of the Christian Roman Empire, Constantine, gathered all of the Christian bishops together in Nicaea, which is now Iznik, in order to come to an agreement on what was the correct position of the Church on important theological issues. The Nicaean Council of 325 A.D. resulted in the Nicaean Creed, which is the fundamental statement of the Christian belief to this day, especially for Orthodox Christians.
Nearly one thousand year later the city was still a thriving and important Byzantium city as it housed the Byzantine royal family in exile, serving as the capital while Constantinople was occupied by an Italian cohort. A couple hundred years later it fell to the Turks. It remained an important Ottoman city until the 16th century when it started to make its slow decline. Now it is a small and rather poor town, full of shanties and ruins, but on the whole a very pleasant place.

Part of the city walls around Iznik. There were much more visible parts, but I did not see them until I was leaving the city by bus.

It did not take long for me to wander around most of the town. As I mentioned, it is situated on a beautiful lake surrounded by large hills, making it a very picturesque place. I spent some time on the waterfront reading and looking around. I the center of the town there is a small park with the ruins of an ancient church that I spent some time looking at. The most impressive ruins of the city were the remnants of the city walls, some of which are still pretty well in tact. I only saw part of them but I afterwards regret not having taken the time to see more of them. Other then that there were a couple of really decorative looking mosques and a museum that apparently was not open. I also met a couple of little girls on bicycles who wanted to practice saying hello in English. I tried my best Turkish with them, but nonetheless communication was difficult. So far the only strangers that I have talked to here have either been kids of carpet merchants. The language barrier is a problem.
For some reason after buying some ceramics (a craft that the city was once world famous for) I decided to not stay there for the night, but to move on to my next destination, Bursa. Looking back I still don’t know why I did not stay, and I immediately regretted it once I arrived at the very loud and crowded Bursa. I suppose that I was still warming up and did not exactly know what I was going to do, so I figured that moving on was easiest. It turned out to be for the best as Bursa was an active city with lots to see and do.
Getting there was no problem, and the countryside was spectacular; miles of pastoral Olive groves on the side of mountains. However, once I arrived at Bursa, which was much larger than I thought (2,000,000) I had to figure out where I wanted to go and how to get there. The bus station was on the edge of town, so I had to take a city bus to the center of the city. But what was the center of the city, how would I get there and what did I really want to see? The city was originally founded in Hellenistic times, but there are no real remnants from that time. The city is mostly known for its scenery, skiing and a few local food items, but it is not a real tourist spot, not even for Turks. I took out my guide book and showed it to someone who helped me find the right bus. I was not sure what was there that I wanted to see, but I figured that if my most trusted book had a map of it then it was worth checking out. Once I got on the bus I realized that I had no way of knowing where to get off. The book said that one of the key attractions was the green mosque, so when I saw a large green mosque as we were heading toward town; I figured that this must be it. I got off in one of the most mish mash mess of spare auto parts and repair shops that I have ever seen. There are so unbelievably many small businesses here. Where I landed there was miles of one car garage repair shops. Needless to say, the green mosque that I found was not the one I was looking for. As it turned out the green mosque isn’t actually green. So there I was stuck in an entirely untouristic area without a real clue where to go. I decided to head back to the main street and hope that if I followed it for a while things would become apparent. I dared not ask someone, for that would have taken the fun out of finding my way. There are some things that women will never understand. My intuition was again right and within a few miles I was in the heart of a bustling commercial center.
I spent two nights in Bursa, which would have been the bare minimum to get any sense of the city. As I mentioned it did not have any monuments to either Hellenistic or Christian history, so there was not any definite attraction for me. There were, however, a few impressive monuments from Ottoman history, so I saw what I could of these. I have only just begun reading about Ottoman history and have an embarrassingly sparse knowledge of the subject. It is something that I should alter, as there are many important and impressive Ottoman monuments that I am unable to fully appreciate due to my ignorance. The city was also full of great places to have tea, which I also took advantage of. I would generally walk around for a while, and then find a nice place to have tea and read, then walk around some more. It was a contemplative trip.

A good example of Ottoman graves

A beautiful park in Bursa (a good place for tea)

Wandering was a real pleasure in the city because the market/bazaar sector was an amazing maze of narrow streets and obscure and serene courtyards that were often only accessible by a single entrance. Bazaars are an amazing thing. They are the way shopping was meant to be done; it is a mysterious, picturesque, loud, exciting, enticing experience requiring tact, skill and a lot of patience.
On the Wednesday morning I made my way back to the bus station to take a bus to Canakkale and eventually Erdine. I went to Canakkale before as a part of my trip to Troy, which is only a few miles away. I did want to see Troy again, but when traveling one has to make quick decisions and compromises. I also wanted to stay in Canakkale again and meet Sirin on Thursday, but I made a spur decision to go right through as I was finding that it was taking longer to get places than I had anticipated, so if I would not have sacrificed Canakkale I would have had very little time in Erdine, Sirin’s home town in Turkey.
It was the right decision for Erdine was a delightful town and I would not have wanted to spend any less time there. It was by far the cleanest, friendliest, and best laid out city that I have seen in Turkey so far. It was another one time capital of the Ottoman Empire. Actually all of the cities that I stayed in with the exception of Orhangazi were one time capitals. Erdine, however, remained a favorite town of the Sultans right up to the 19th century. It is a garden city full of little tea gardens tucked under vined canopies. The main attraction of the city is the three large mosques with in a few blocks of each other. During the height of the Ottoman Empire there seemed to be a sense among the Sultans that they needed to display their magnificence by building a larger mosque than their predecessor, a kind of pet project to keep them occupied while they were expanding their empire. So large mosques would be built right next to each other so as to show the progression. In Istanbul this can be obscured by the numerous other buildings and neighborhoods that occupy the bustling city. Erdine, on the other hand, makes a perfect canvas on which to fill the pictures of piety.

Selim's masterpiece! It is arguably the most magnificent mosque in Turkey.

The domed ceiling

Inside of the Old Mosque with its large caligraphy. Notice the man standing.

My visit there was without travel anxiety, (which is frustrating at the time but makes for good stories) as I had a knowledgeable guide in Sirin. We basically continued with my plan of seeing things and stopping in picturesque places for tea. One of the most interesting of these was the caravanasaray, which was an ancient truck stop for traveling merchants on the silk route. It is now a hotel with a nice café in the courtyard. We played backgammon, which appears to be a national pass time, for you can’t pass an outdoor patio café without seeing at least one pair of people playing it. We also had tea along a picturesque river, the name of which currently eludes me. If you don’t like tea, don’t come to turkey.

The urban and the rural are often not distinct in Turkey.

On the Friday evening we made our way back to Istanbul after having one last meal at the best Kofte restaurant in the cit with Sirin’s dad. I have to admit that they were by far the best Koftes that I have had so far, although I am by no means a connoisseur. Thus ended my first trip: I learned how to get around on my own, how to get unlost, how to make due with fractured Turkish, and best of all, how to avoid tourists.

This picture represents the two great forces in Turkey today. On the one hand there is a glorious mosque representing the beauty and majesty of the Ottoman empire in late medieval Islam. On the other hand there is Ataturk in his military uniform representing the modernising westernising focus of the new Turkish republic.

2006-07-01T10:29:00.000-07:00

Writing about Istanbul

It has been a great pleasure for me to write about this city and the things I have seen and done. From the moment I got off the plane I was immensely inspired to describe this mysterious world to those of my friends who could only imagine it. I wanted to share it with others, but I also wanted to understand it myself.

I have learned that I am by no means unique in this sentiment. I have discovered that there is a rich tradition of writers who have felt moved by this city, and as such have been inspired to either write about it or paint it (of course they did not have digital cameras). Aside from the guide books that I have used to navigate through the labyrinth of streets, I have picked up a couple of other books worth mention. The first since I have been here was John Freely’s History of Istanbul. In his early eighties, Freely is a professor of the history of science at Bogazici University. He has written a vast number of books in such various fields as travel, history and science, the History of Istanbul being one of them. It was a useful albeit dry book covering the main points of the city’s 2600 year old history. It helped me put the vast history of the city in context, as well as helped me place the cities numerous monuments in their proper historical context.

After Freely’s book I picked up a book called Istanbul: Memoirs of a City by a notorious writer named Orhan Pamuk. Pamuk has become well known and well hated by many Turkish citizens for speaking out on the Armenian genocide. Today one of my students told me that Pamuk was a flat out liar and that he would have imprisoned him (Pamuk was acquitted on charges pertaining to his statements about the genocide issue). The book that I am reading has nothing to say about the genocide, but is a wonderful work on the city from the perspective of a sensitive person who lived here during the city’s darkest times following the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire to the population explosion that has occurred over the last 50 years. What he does that is a bit different from the other books that I have seen is talk about the soul of the city, not simply its attractions and monuments. He describes the way it has been understood and written about for the last 150 years by Europeans and Turks alike. With this I have been able to understand why I am so compelled to use my inclination to write to articulate some of the wonder I have experienced while being here.

As informative and insightful his book has been, there is one overused cliché that he and many other people I have heard use that I would like to take a few lines to comment on. Istanbul is often referred to as caught somewhere between the east and the west. Although this is geographically true, it lacks the necessary specificity to be a useful description of the sense that I get from being here. What is blended here in what is perhaps a truly unique way is the overlap of medieval (denoted by the faith), modern (denoted by secularism and technology) and post modern (denoted by a rejection of everything). When I say medieval I a referring to the vast Muslim population who not only hold many beliefs that are more compatible with a medieval mindset, but to a way of life that corresponds to that faith. It is a simple life where people accept their lot in life, walk almost everywhere they go (which means that they don’t go far), maintain customary dress and traditions, and pray reverently five times a day. The modern world here is quite recognizable and is manifest in the fascination with things European/American such as big business and cell phones. I gather that this modernizing impulse is still relatively new here, perhaps only a hundred years old where as in the rest of European based countries it has been gradually making its way since the 17th century. Thus when writers are talking about the tendency for many to want to look towards the west and to see the east as keeping the country back, I believe that what they really mean is that there are still many who are not yet sold on the promises of modernity and are inclined to keep the traditions of their ancestors, regardless of whether a lack of prosperity is the byproduct. On the other hand they just might not know better and will change their mind when the opportunity arises as so many Europeans and North Americans have.

Yet, as I mentioned, on account of the vast exposure to European and American media, there is a growing discontent with the promises of modernity from those whose parents had embraced it. As I write this there is heavy metal blaring into my room from the neighboring window, a sign of the growing influence of specifically English pop music. This sentiment, like the one that is strongly felt in North America, does not seek any productive response, rather only seeks various forms of self-annihilation.

As a result of this it is possible to be in certain parts of the city and feel that one could very well be in any city in Canada and the United States. Ultimately the reservation to plunge into modernity and off the cliff into post modernity may well result in sluggish economic and social growth, but may also act as an emergency brake that will keep the country from slipping into the darkness that is felt to overwhelm many in the more developed countries.

Thus what fascinates me about what is referred to as the tension between the west and the east in Turkey is the presence of the powerful tendency to modernize with the two counterbalancing responses on either side. It will be interesting to see how well the medieval aspect of this culture is able to maintain itself in the years to come and whether this will be a conscious choice to avoid the failings of modernity that once embraced can only lead to the nihilism of post modernity. On the other hand, Will the maintenance of medievalism degenerate into the lower aspects of that mode of though, that of religious violence. Either way, I hope to continue to keep my eye on this country as certain aspects have touched my soul and are bound to be a part of me for the rest of my life.

2006-06-30T04:14:00.000-07:00

The Military Museum

A Janissary foot soldier in mail with shield

Unfortunately it was really hard to take picures of the swords in thier display cases. This one was at least
6 ft long.

By now, nearing my second month in Istanbul, I feel as though I have seen pretty much all of the really interesting things one can see without having a special guide. I have not really checked out some of the Palaces, but I am waiting for Sirin to become less busy for that. This being the case I had quietly resolved that I was going to focus less on seeing things and more on being here. Yet there was one more notable place that I had not yet seen, and of which I had heard relatively little.

These are mostly French from the Napoleon era. I was surprised how Roman and Greek they looked.

INTIMIDATING!

The military Museum is only a couple blocks away from one of the classes I teach in a private company’s office, so I thought that it would take virtually no effort to come to work a little early and check it out for a while. Was I surprised! It was one of the most impressive things I have seen so far. The Museum is huge and filled with thousands of antique armaments from the last five centuries, most of which are in pristine condition. Many of the items I had never even imagined to have existed: 6 foot broad swords, pistols inlaid with gold, helmets from all over Europe, massive and ornate muskets, full body chain mail, etc.

Mehter

I also had a chance to see the oldest military band called Mehter perform a set of traditional Ottoman military music. It was the perfect thing for me and my growing love of military music. Of course I bought a CD.

Some Bizzare looking muskets- like many of the fire arms in the museum they looked far to ornate to fire.

A collection of European helmets dating back to the 15th century.

Overall it was an extremely fortuitous discover, one in which the child like imagination of the former glory of knights and swordplay blazed to the surface of my mind. Because I spent so much time trying to take picture and videos I did not have time to really see everything before they kicked me out, so I am planning on going back next Wednesday to feed my imagination once again.

2006-06-26T04:49:00.000-07:00

Unexpected discovery

As I am sure that most of you are aware, my parents named me after a character in a psychedelic and haunting Elton John song from his pre-pop icon years of the early seventies. When people ask me what my name means, or where it comes from, I usually mention the song, but I have never been able to answer questions pertaining to its origin; I would suggest that it might have originally been French, or even Jewish. Well a couple of weeks ago I accidentally discovered what nationality it originates from, and the answer was a bit of a surprise.

I was on another of my short day trips with the guru of travel Ed and his newly acquired disciple Jasim. Ed arrived in Istanbul with Scott and Mark a few weeks ago as they came by to see the city and visit with me. They met him on the train and they generally stayed together in Eminonu while they were here. When Scott and Mark left, Ed was soon to follow, but not before him and I walked around a bit and saw some of the cooler parts of the city. However, he came back after a couple of weeks on the Mediterranean coast. This time though, he was accompanied by a friend from Baghdad named Jasim, who is now living in Jordan (and who has pictures of himself all over Istanbul to prove that he was here).

Ed the American travel guru

Ed is a real Turkophile, he speaks so highly of the city and the country. He has been here a few times before, so his admiration has proceeded beyond the initial romance. He loves the place because he has been all over and he finds much here worthy of respect and lauding. Generally, he likes to wander around the city and develop an internal map of the city that is far more reliable than city maps for reasons I have previously mentioned. So I have been lucky to accompany him on a few of these excursions, seeing wonderful places that I would never have thought to see otherwise.

On the particular trip of interest we went to the area called Kadikoy, which would have been part of the old city of Chalcedon, of the Chalcedonian council. It was a smaller city that was founded before Byzantium on the opposite side of the Bosphorus. It has always been an important sister city of to Byzantium, but is now incorporated into the larger city. We had taken a short ferry from the main docks in old Constantinople then wandered around the shops and markets of the Kadikoy streets. After seeing the statue of a bull at the main intersection Ed asked where we wanted to go next. He showed me a map of the area and pointed to a church called Levon, and asked if I wanted to see it. I was naturally curious, so we walked the short couple of blocks over.

Do you think it is a coincidence that my church is located in the main literary haunt in Istanbul?

The narrow side street that it was on was guarded buy this statue of a man on top of a stack of books. I now gather that the street is famous for being a gathering point for poets and artists as it contained some of the nicest little kiosks where genuine artists sold unique crafts. It also had the Nazim Hikmet cultural center. Hikmet was one of the most important Turkish poets of the twentieth century. I have taken the time to read some of his works and have not been disappointed in the slightest.

Anyway, the church bearing my name was behind some large walls with a rather uninviting door blocking the way. Most churches here have court yards and locked fences; it has not always been safe to practice Christianity here, especially as an Armenian or a Greek. The church was called Surp Levon and it is an Armenian Catholic Church (apparently the only Armenian Catholic Church in the city, for most of them are Orthodox). So there it is, my name is Armenian and it is the name of a saint. I looked up the name in an Armenian encyclopedia, but could not find references to the saint although I did find numerous other Armenian Levons.
I also discovered that it is linguistically linked with the Russian name Leon, which I suspect is from the Greek word of the same pronunciation meaning lion. So now I have a more complete knowledge of this unusual name that has had no small impact on my life. I am Levon the lion.

2006-06-24T11:06:00.000-07:00

Hagia Eirene

As I promised, I finally had an opportunity to get inside the ancient Hagia Eirene. There has been a Mozart 250 celebration here in the city, and as is customary here, many of the concerts were held in this grand old church. It was a perfect place for such a concert, with great acoustics and an atmosphere that is second to none. Surprisingly, for a city of nearly 15 million, it was relatively unattended. The impression I get (based on a very superficial survey) is that a classical musician in lowly Winnipeg at 700,000 is busier and of a better quality then one here; there was not even a conductor. In total there was about the same number of concert goers as a Tuesday night chamber performance by the Manitoba Chamber Orchestra. Now all we need is a 1500 year old church. I hope that shortly this church will be reinstated as a church so that it can reclaim its former glory. The main problem, however, is that there are relatively few Greeks left in the city on account of the population exchange that has occurred over the last couple of generations, of which Sirin family were a part of. Nevertheless, this church could stand as a place of pilgrimage as it deserves.

2006-06-24T10:56:00.000-07:00

Galata tower

Galata tower is one of the more prominent features of the Istanbul skyline. It was built as a watch tower in 1348 by the Genoese, who settled on the north shore of the Golden Horn. It was once known as the tower of Christ, although this would have been inappropriate once subsumed under the Ottoman Empire.

Here is a great perspective shot of Sirin.

For a fee one can go to the top and squeeze in with the few dozen other tourists that are there enjoying the panoramic view. Here I am with part of the city in the background.

2006-06-24T10:31:00.000-07:00

Basilica Cisterna

Basilica Cistern is one of the unique highlights of the city. It is one thing unanimously enjoyed by all the travelers I have met. It is an underground water reservoir built in 532 AD by Emperor Justinian. Supplying such a large city with water has been a persistent concern, and even today there are various different customs involving water retrieval and distribution, including the water man who drives around yelling suuuuuyyyuuuu.

Walking around it was quite a wonder. It is sparsely lit with classical music (one of Beethoven’s symphonies), giving it a very enchanting atmosphere. Unfortunately, like so many things, there were too many obnoxious tourists. Why can’t everyone be authentic like me?

The manner of lighting inspired us to take numerous pictures; however, most of them did not turn out very well. We did get a couple that weren’t to blurry. As you can see it is great for those who like to play with shadows.

2006-06-16T01:21:00.000-07:00

Shopping in Istanbul
Part 1

Inside the Grand Bazaar, the worlds oldest indoor shopping center

As I have mentioned, there has been almost continuous inhabitation of this city for 2600 years. The basis of this inhabitation, to the best of my reckoning, has been three-fold: military, religious, and commercial. So far I have focused on the first two, but now it is time to talk about the final of the defining characteristics of Istanbul.

Hand carved chess peices

Belly-dancer costumes. Who would like me to bring one back for them?

Shopping here is an art form and takes some time to master. Unlike the trend of the one stop mega-stores that are popular in North America, there are millions of little shops all over the city. Many of them are so small that only two people can squeeze into them at a time. The Grand Bazaar, where I went yesterday, contains a boggling maze of several hundred shops, most of which are barely bigger than a closet. So, knowing were to go to get the good deal, or the good quality items itself takes expertise. In addition, in the market and tourist areas there are few price tags, so the merchant has a lot of freedom when it comes to offering an initial price. One price tag that Sirin did see on a leather item was 250 euro, but the merchant said that for her, as a local, he would sell it for 150. In other words the merchants can spot a tourist and most certainly rip them off if they are not careful.

Baby shoes

Lanterns

One can get good deals, but one has to know where and how to go about it, which takes time and practice. The first offer is deliberately high for suckers. However, it is normally too high for anyone with any sense to consider. The next move is critical, for if the counter offer is too high then it is hard to take them down any further, but not impossible. What I have been trying to do is consider in my own mind what I would be comfortable paying, and then not really move from it. I have not been incredibly successful, but I am slowly getting better. The key is to be willing to just walk out if you are not completely comfortable, regardless of how friendly the merchant is. There are usually numerous other places that are selling similar things, so with patience a person can find what they are looking for. For example we were looking at some bags in one store in which the first price was 120 lira, but just a couple of stores away the merchant there offered 80 lira as the first price on the very same item.

A woman making a carpet.

The carpets are spectacular but not even close to within price range.

My experience with the pipe merchant is a good example of the phenomena. When I showed some interest in the pipes in the window I was whisked into the store faster than I knew what was going on with a tea in front of me and a stool under my bottom. The fellow would not even mention price until he had shown mea nearly every pipe on the shelf, which as you can see are quite a few. After I picked out the one I liked we talked prices and I eventually got him to a more comfortable price, although I immediately felt like I had over paid after we left. I was certainly seduced by his charms, but in all honesty, I did get a very nice pipe.

My attempts at being a shrewed customer.

Another part of what makes shopping here such an art form is that it is easy to become overwhelmed. Theses little stores are as packed as possible and the items are often extremely fantastic, as some of the pictures indicate. In order to know what to buy and where to buy takes really knowing what you want and what you are willing to pay for it. I hope by the time I am ready to go I will have a much better sense and have a few good bargains to show for my patient efforts.

The pictures for this entry were taken by Sirin

2006-06-14T04:01:00.000-07:00

Censorship and History

Warning: the following may be verbose in places, reader warning is advised.

As I had hope, my job as an English teacher has brought me in contact with locals of various backgrounds, offering me an opportunity to learn a little more of what people who live here think about and struggle with. Most of my students are recent graduates of high school, who take English because they have a vague notion that it will help them get a better job, although they are not exactly sure what that will be. Because I teach the lower levels the students are not as serious about learning and as such are not as interested in serious matters. I do, however, get an occasional opportunity to lead an activity class with some of the more advanced students, which has turned out to be the highlight of my teaching experience so far.
Yesterday I had a chance to talk to a person, the disposition of which I had hoped I would have a chance to meet while living here. I was leading a speaking activity on local history, in which I tried to get the students to talk about some of the historical monuments or places in the city that they found most interesting. Unfortunately, of the four that were there only one wanted to talk about something of local interest. When the class was over the students asked me some of the standard questions pertaining to my likes and dislikes about Istanbul, in which I gave my standard answer about loving the beauty, history and excitement, but hating the traffic and the “tourist tax” as I have termed it (in an attempt to remain light hearted about it).
After most of the students left, one fellow remained, and asked if I had a minute to talk about some of the points of history that we were discussing. He said that he thought the stories about Gallipoli were exaggerated for patriotic reasons. This fascinated me, so I encouraged him to explain further. He said that all his life he had heard the stories, but found them hard to believe. When he went to University he started to look into it and found that some scholars disagreed about some of what had become the standard interpretation.
The main problem is twofold. Firstly, censorship is endorsed by the state here (as far as I have heard). He was telling me about one recent writer (whose name eludes me at present) who was thrown in jail for a while because he published a book about the Armenian Genocide, which is a very taboo subject here. I have seen traces of this tension, for I walk past the French embassy everyday and sometimes I see protesters in front who are denouncing France for their insistence that Turkey accept responsibility for the massacre. I suspect that these protesters are accusing the French and of being Turk bashers and minority supporters against unjustified claims of injustice. I have also seen the other side, impoverished Armenians wandering the streets and begging. I have come to identify them by distinctions of dress and appearance. The women have a particular way of wearing their head scarves that is more eastern European rather than Muslim. As well, they have faces that are much more weathered than the standard Turks, indicating a life spent in persistent proximity to the sun. So in a country where censorship is openly endorsed, it is had to know what is true concerning important historical and even political events.
The second problem is the same one that besets Canada as well, that of ambivalence. Despite the fact that this is arguably one of the most historically rich cities in the world, so few people are really interested in or understand it. For the majority of the people that I have met the palaces, walls, churches and mosques are just ornaments giving color to the backdrop of the city. Yet this is not a particularity of Turkish people. No matter where one lives one will always find that the majority of people are not really interested in history, theirs or otherwise. Our lives are so full of many various concerns, both profound and profane, that an accurate account of history is something that is easily relegated to the lower lines on our “to do” lists. For many, deliberating on how to procure the next months rent is a far more immediate concern then researching the large and annoying decrepit walls that occupy the opposite side of their street and are occasion for bizarre and lost tourists to occasionally meander by. For the majority all that really matters is that Istanbul was the center of a great empire and then became a republic under the great national hero, Ataturk. The rest of the history is for the tourists who are easy to swindle a couple of extra dollars from.
For the political powers, those who control the censorship, there are expedient reasons why some of the facts of history need to be interpreted in a certain way. This country has mandatory military service for young men, so it becomes an imperative that they don’t inquire too much into the old or recent atrocities that the army has participated in. Other wise the will to fight might be weakened on account of a sympathy for the plight of the enemies. The Kurds to the east should not be seen as anything other than a pestering and rebellious group who need to be put down. Whether their cause is justified is secondary to the political necessity of maintaining a program of integration in the area. The Government truth, then, can be seen as what is the best for the state as a whole.
Back to my student. He talked somewhat openly about the Armenian genocide and about other aspects of history that he had discovered in his studies. He told me a story about when he went to one of the major cities of the Kurdish regions and saw the way that the Kurds were being mistreated. He said that this convinced him that it was conceivable that the same atrocities could have been perpetrated by the armies of the past. He does not doubt that the silence on such issues is equivalent to a confession of guilt.
As the conversation continued I asked him if he was a Kurd as well, to which he answered that he was. He told me that the Kurds are not allowed to take schooling in their mother tongue, but have to learn Turkish to go to school. The Kurds of Turkey are not an insignificant aspect of some minor back wood. According to my interlocutor, they number 15 million, which is greater than the population of Canada west of Toronto. There are also significant Kurdish populations in Iran, Iraq and Syria. As well, they are not a primitive group of irascible highlanders, at one time they were among the key champions of the Muslim faith against the Christian crusaders. One of the most important generals of all time, Saladin, was one of their ancestors.
However, they are known to be a volatile populace, so it is entirely likely that they have caused some unrest in their area, which incidentally was once inhabited by Armenians. I was informed that Che Guevara, the romantic revolutionary hero and general butcher of Rage Against the Machine fame has also become a figurehead for disgruntled Kurdish youth. Someone told me once that they have been divided amongst several countries as a pacification measure.
Some members of the international community have recognized that the Turkish treatment of the Kurds is an impingement on their human rights and have been putting pressure on the Turkish government to reverse some of these policies. It is one of the major impediments that Turkey must overcome in order to receive acceptance into the coveted European Union.
But here, to date, these are only things that are to be talked about in empty rooms when no one else is listening, but this cannot last. As more of the population learns English, there will be more serious consequences then greater access to American television (apparently "Desperate Housewives" is popular here, I can only guess why in a population base where the vast majority of the work force is men). There will also be greater access to English books which are harder for the government to censor. Perhaps, eventually the few who take an interest in finding an accurate account of history will be the ones who rewrite the history that will become the vernacular for the population at large.
I bid the fellow I was speaking with well, and encouraged him to continue his historical research. As he left I was not surprised to see him carrying a copy of Brave New World, as part of his English reading practice.

2006-06-11T09:43:00.000-07:00

Troy

Here I am looking over the planes of Troy as the ancient kings would have done. This is a life size replica of the famous Trojan horse. The design is based on images from ancient coins.

I have finally had the chance to visit one of the pinnacles of my journey to this land-the ancient city of Troy. For many this sight is a disappointment on account of the lack of spectacular columns and their lack of knowledge of the greatest epic of mankind. For me it was a disappointment of another kind; I was rushed!

For the second day in a row I was blessed with having Captain Ali as my guide. Again he made the tour. Unfortunately because of deadlines, we had to blast through the sight, barely having enough time to take a picture let alone get a chance to absorb what was being seen. I did however learn a lot from this sage and much of it is worth the telling.

The cite was first inhabited as early as 3000 B.C. From that time to about the 1st Century A.D. there was a succession of 9 cities, the Homeric city being the 7th at around 1200 B.C. This being said, it is no wonder that there is not much left. In the1870’s a German archaeologist named Heinrich Schliemann set out to find the old city using keys from the text. He came upon a large mound located about a mile from the Aegean shore and near the Scamander River, and began the process of uncovering the layers of sediment that buried the ancient cities. In doing so he is recognized as one of the forerunners of Archeology.

Here is Ali in the foreground with some of the ruins in the background.

This is the passage leading to the entrance of the seventh city. It was around a corner so as to prevent attackers from being able to use battering rams. It was one of the most intact part of the wall that Poseidon built for the ancient Trojans.

This was the best shot I could get of the plains surrounding Troy, where Achilles and Hector had their famous contest of arms. I wanted to get a better sense of the outlying area, the place where the actual fighting occurred. If I go back I want to spend some time exploring this area as well. Apparently the shore is much further back then it would have been 3000 years ago due to sediment deposit.

If you look closely you can see four different placards showing the ruins of four different cities. I could not get them all in, but in this spot there are ruins from 7 of the different cities.

This was a very special spot. It is where all the cities had their sacred temple for sacrifice. One of the slabs is an alter and the two grated cylinders are actually wells. While we were there we saw a bird fly down 50 m to get a drink of water. Apparently the birds in the area instinctively know that the well contains water.

This was a ramp at the entrance of the second city used to help the chariots build momentum as they repelled attackers.

I do intend on going back toward the end of my time in Turkey. I need to be there for a while and absorb what I am seeing. For me this is a very special site as I have read parts of the Iliad numerous times, and have read a few other books depicting tales from that war. Overall I was impressed with my first experience of a tour, but I think that I will avoid them from now on. I needed to see how to go about getting around in Turkey and I think that I accomplished that. I know enough about ancient history and have access to numerous books, so what is most important for me is to be able to “be” in these places, not just “see” them.

2006-06-09T11:22:00.000-07:00

Gallipoli

A monument to the thousand of unknown Turkish soldiers who lost their lives in this futile battle

Yesterday I visited my first WWI site. It was powerful!
In North America the battle of Gallipoli is rarely discussed in accounts of WWI. Canada had a very small part and the American’s had no part in it. It was also a futile stalemate, which resulted in a hasty retreat by commonwealth forces. However, for Turkey, Australia, and New Zealand, this battle was hugely significant and for citizens of theses two countries coming here is a pilgrimage. To aid in the significance I was fortunate enough to be accompanied by a few Australians of all different walks, and to be guided by a Turkish man. I found out that ANZAC (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps) day is one of the most widely celebrated holidays in their country. It is like Remembrance Day and Canada Day combined but with more hype. For them, it was the birth of their national identity and civic spirit. As such many Aussies who can afford it try and make it out at least once in their lives.
For the Turks it was literally the birth of their nation. As a result of the battle they gained a great war hero who shortly thereafter took control of the country, exiled the Ottoman sultan, made huge social reforms and created a republic. That hero, of course, was Kemil Ataturk.

"The right man at the right place." He did what Hitler could not do- defeat Churchill.

The battle began on 25 April, 1915. The battle was doomed form the beginning with a Royal navy screw up. The ANZACs were placed on what is now ANZAC cove with its extremely steep cliffs. They were suppose to be dropped off a km south at a beach with a much more gradual slope. This mistake allowed the very under strengthed Turkish force to keep the ANZACs from reaching the high ground and gain the advantage. Both sides dug in and began an 8 month stalemate that resulted in over 200,000 casualties.

The steep cliffs of the ANZAC cove. If the Allies would have screwed up this badly at Normandy we would all be speaking German.

There were many things that surprised me about this trip, the Aussies not the least. What I could not, and still cannot fathom, was how close the two trench lines were. Typically about 20m apart, we went to one spot were we could see the remnants of the ANZAC trench system on one side of a narrow road and the Turk lines on the other, a mere 8m apart.

An ANZAC communication tunnel

Some of the extensive trench system that is still visible

The most significant battle was fought on the Lone Pine ridge. The ANZACs made a rush for the Turk lines that lasted for three days. Because the fighting was so tight, the soldiers were not allowed to use their rifles for fear of fratricide, so they were limited to bayonets and bare fists. By the time the fighting finally stopped there was 2000 ANZAC dead and 6000 Turk dead. The result of the battle was the ANZAC’s managed to push the Turks back a whopping 39 meters. When the fighting was over, there was an unofficial ceasefire that allowed the ANZACS to burry the dead of both sides. However, due to lack of space, the ANZACs had a very small foothold on the side of a cliff, they had no choice but to burry the soldiers on top of each other in the abandon Turkish trenches. This was a turning point in another way though, for it established a mutual respect that is clear to this day. As we stood in the monument with several thousand buried soldiers just a few feet below us our tour guide explained how the soldiers were buried such that they rested eternally in each others arms as brothers.

The site of the "Lone Pine battle". No larger than two tennis courts, it was the sight of 8000 dead.

I should take a moment to mention a couple of things about my guide, Captain Ali. He was a 75 year old man from the region, who had been a Captain in the navy and then worked on ships. At some point he must have got a degree in history, for he was also a lecturer at one point. When I told him that I studied ancient history he seemed a little interested and told me that he wrote a thesis on the different cultural groups that inhabited the various cities of Troy.
He was an outstanding guide. He told the story with such passion and reverence that it felt like we were children listening to a father tell his own story. He was remarkably passionate and emotional for someone who has told the story so many times.
The one thing that he emphasized over and over was how the campaign was a gentleman’s battle and how a great fellowship between the three countries was formed. I must admit that I felt like a bit of an outsider, but I did appreciate the chance to see the bond that this event formed between the three countries. He told one story that really demonstrated this point. At one point the Turks had an abundance of loose tobacco, but no papers. So they put up a white flag threw over the tobacco in bags to the ANZACs with a note indicating that they would share it if the ANZACs could supply them with papers. The ANZACs complied and once they had rolled a number of cigarettes the two sides took a smoke break, or an unofficial ceasefire. By the end of the campaign the two sides weren’t even aiming at each other.
The whole affair ended in December of that year with a bloodless withdrawal. The Brits claimed it was the result of flawless planning and timing, but everyone knows that the Turks were just saying good by and good ridden. Since then hundreds of thousands of ANZACs have come back to Turkey on friendly terms.
A couple of years ago there was a car bomb that blew up a significant part of the British embassy- when I saw the friendly feeling that the two countries share it became apparent that such a thing would never be perpetrated against an Aussie or Kiwi embassy.

2006-06-02T01:27:00.000-07:00

Church Hunting
Part One
Old Constantinople

Today I decided to set my self a task- to see as many ancient churches as I could. This was once a supremely Holy city, so in order to understand its history one needs to understand the role the Ancient Church played in this story. I originally intended to start in Beyoglu, which contains more of the churches in use, but I decided to start in Old Constantinople instead because the churches there are much older. When I say Old Constantinople I am referring to the part of Istanbul that is within what would have been the old city walls. So with my trusty guide book and map I set out from Eminonu.
I initially walked North West along the Golden Horn toward the ferry stop called Fener. This is an area with a fairly high concentration of churches according to the guide book, so it seemed the best place to start, especially considering that this is where my most coveted prize was to be found, the seat of the Patriarchate. As I wandered along the waterfront blvd, I began to see some of the poverty that I heard of but had not really seen. There were still scattered remnants of the old wall, intermixed with ramshackle buildings and fancy restaurants. I walked with a determined step, confident and excited about my journey, and curious about what I would find. As I was part way to my destination, I spotted in amongst some ruined building a sign of what I was seeking- a high mounted cross. Intrigued with my random find, as the church I now beheld was not in the guide, I crossed the street and began to look around. What appeared to be the front door was locked and my inspection around the neighborhood offered no other entrance (I find it is a good idea to look around as sometimes the entrances to old buildings are not apparent). There was no apparent way in so I had to content myself with an image of the exterior. One condition of my expedition was that I would try and get into as many building as I could. I did not, however, consider this the bench mark of my success, do I continued pleasantly on my way.

St Stephen of the Bulgars

I proceeded in my set course for another ten minuets, when I saw another sign of my intended destination. This was what I was looking for, a nice, open and large church.

Right along the busy street I found St. Stephen of the Bulgars, an active Bulgarian Church from the 19th century. It is has a fascinating story. It was built in Venice and shipped to Istanbul, and is entirely cast in iron. Nevertheless, as you can see it is a beautiful church. When I arrived at the front gate there were two old men in the court yard sitting under a tree and doing what all people here do, drinking tea. The one fellow motioned for me to let myself in, and I slowly and reverently entered the church. I was very impressed. It was rather dark inside, as my pictures indicate, but the iron gave it a grave look. The old woman allowed me to take pictures, which I appreciated, but was somewhat uncomfortable with, yet glad for at the same time. Ever since I started this writing project I have discovered a whole new joy in taking pictures. I picked up a couple of items at the gift shop and was on my way. It was a great find as it was still largely in tact; I felt welcome, and I was the only one there; all considerations that will become more apparent as I continue.

This picture of the Iconostas gives a good sense of how dark and heavy the church felt.

The Greek Patriarchate

After looking at the map I realized that I actually went past the Patriarchate, so I had to back track a few blocks. As I began to navigate through the back streets, a very friendly man with pretty good English came out of a store and tried to sell me some travel books. When an especially friendly man with good English approaches you on the street you can be sure that he wants to sell you something. From this fellow I managed to get directions, and it turned out that I was just a few meters away. I had to go through some unassuming doors, through a metal detector, leading into a closed courtyard,. At one time the Greeks here were under a lot of persecution, especially the Church officials, so it is no wonder that I had to go through security. Actually, the whole complex could have gone entirely unnoticed, for it was very unassuming form the outside. Again I reverently went into the building and stood in awe for several minuets, bearing witness to the most remarkable Christian artwork I have ever seen (next to Gary’s place that is). I was not alone, there were a few worshipers and visitors that came and went. I spent a couple of minutes saying some prayers and taking it in. I really wish I could capture the essence of the beauty with my pictures, but I suppose that would take the fun out of coming to a place like this.

The way the lighting was in this church made it hard to get a good shot. With this one I wanted to give a sense of how grand the Iconostas was. It was impossible to get the whole Iconostas in one frame, so I had to take them in sections.
Again, the light tampers with the picture, but I wanted to show the golden inlay in more detail. In all the churches that I saw there were numerous Icons of soldier saints, especially St. George.

To explain the significance of visiting this place would take quite a lot of time, and would incur a good deal of disagreement, so I will try to be as brief as possible. The Ancient Church was divided into 5 patriarchs that were the heads of their districts. The Pope in Rome was one of those Patriarchs, and rightfully the most preeminent, yet not superior in rank. The Greek speaking regions also had a Patriarch, who was perhaps second to the Pope in preeminence. Until the fall of the Byzantine Empire, in the 15th century, the two had roughly equal domains. As the Turks took over much of the areas belonging to the Byzantine Church, the influence of the Greek Patriarch has greatly diminished. So as you can see, this is a pretty important place. In addition, the fact that the Patriarch remained in Istanbul rather than going to Greece indicates how important the Church sees this city as a part of its spiritual heritage.
Needless to say, I did not meet the Patriarch, but I saw a few frocked fellows strolling around the courtyard. There were a few other buildings in the compound, which I assumed were residences of some sort. I do hope to meet the Patriarch some day, but I don’t think that I quite have the clout to walk up to him and introduce myself.
I left feeling quite satisfied with my find. I went back to the store of the eager salesman, and bought a couple of things. Originally I thought I was finally getting the hang of this haggling thing, but later I found similar things that were even less then my first counter offer. I will get the hang of it eventually. I wish my dad where here, he would be good at haggling and probably really enjoy it.

Church of the Pammakaristos

My next destination was the Church of the Pammakaristos, the wiliest of the churches I hunted that day. I left the Patriarchate, and headed right into the heart of a neighborhood that time forgot. It was on a hill, with cobble stones that probably dating back to the Romans. Some of the houses were burnt out or decrepit, others were in immaculate shape, but all of them were much older than the first settlements in Quebec. There were kids playing soccer and women with head scarves doing housework and talking. I went up and down these streets looking for this church that the guide book deemed “one of the hidden secrets of Istanbul.” I encountered two problems: firstly, my map was not as trusty as I anticipated. Very few maps have all the streets marked, so it is hard to know whether one should take the first right or the second. This would not be such a problem if the streets were marked with signs, but why would the locals need that, they have been here all their lives, so they know the streets like second nature, and who would want to wander around here if they weren’t from here? I started to turn back, deeming the prospects slim. I should also mention that I was simultaneously looking for another church near by called Church of St. Mary of the Mongols; another highly elusive prize, which I never ended up finding. As I was walking back I remembered a remarkable building that I saw on the top of a hill on my way out. I decided to investigate it. I walked straight up the hill, no worries about missing this one as it was huge. When I finally found the proper entrance to the courtyard, I was met with a two year old sage with a sucker and a toy. She tried to explain to me what the building was, but my Turkish is still rather weak. Fortunately there was a placard outside that I had the wherewithal to take a picture of. I suspected that this was the Pammakaristos, because it looked fairly unvisited, although it shouldn’t have been, as it was an awesome building as you can see. There was no way to get inside the building, so I had to leave it as is.
I went back to the main street and had a chicken kebab in a quaint little restaurant that was built into the old wall. When I took a look at my guide book I realized by the picture of the Pammakaristos, that I had not found the church I was looking for. I renewed my resolve and choose another route that would offer better success. Incidentally, when I showed Sirin the picture of the placard, she told me that the hilltop promontory that looked like a palace was actually a school built to study Rumi, however my search for Rumi and his Sufis will have to be the subject matter of another expedition.
After lunch I returned into the winding back streets. I discovered why the map often shows streets just ending- stairs, and lots of stairs. I found myself in a very Muslim neighborhood. There are two types of visible Muslims here. The ones in which the women wear pretty much anything they like as long as their heads are scarved, and the ones in which the women are covered head to toe with long black gowns, faces included. In this neighborhood the men were also dressed in more traditional clothe. I felt very much like a stranger in a place where he may not belong. I tried not to give into these feelings though, remembering that I am a soldier and twice the size of these guys. Yah whatever. No one intends me harm, they just look as me because I look as though I am out of my element.
As I was about to put off my search for a second time I saw a building down a street that looked as though it were an old church. I tried to get into the court yard, but the only door was locked and some men down the street told me in their best English-No! Someday I am going to act as though I don’t understand English, and that I am French instead. I started to walk back when I got a hunch that if I went one more block I would find it; I did. The Pammakaristos was converted into a mosque but is now a museum, so I had to pay a couple of Lira to get in. It was built in the 14th century and was the seat of the Patriarch for 100 years before it was turned into a mosque. What struck me the most was how small it is. It probably could not hold more that a few dozen people during a prayer service. It did contain some very fine frescoes, and had a very warm feeling. Most importantly, it was quite, so I could sit a while and contemplate.

Almost all of the frescoes and mosaics made the viewer look up. Here is Christ and his disciples on the ceiling.
One of the best mosaics if Christ that I saw.

Church St. Savior of Chora

My next stop was Church St. Savior of Chora. It was in a different district, so I had to walk a couple of kilometers in the heat and humidity along a busy commercial avenue. There are so many remarkable things occurring simultaneously on these busy streets that a few words could not even begin to capture it. I am starting to get used to the incredible vibrancy, but I am sure that I still stick out as wide eyed prairie boy from Canada. This church was a bit easier to find, but this was not necessarily a good thing, as the entrance was marked by several large tour buses. It seems that everyone wanted to make this their last stop. When I arrived, I found out that the cost to get in was 10 lira, which is the same price as Hagia Sophia, pretty steep for such a small church. The reason that it is so popular is because it has the most in tact frescoes and mosaics of any church in the city (really old ones that is). It was also built in the first part of the 14th century, was converted into a mosque and was turned into a museum. It had all the trappings of a tourist spot, so I was a bit disappointed at first. I could not really sit and meditate as there were so many tourists, so I was going to leave early. However, I took a moment to look through my tour book and started to read about the mosaics. The following is some of what I learned.

I believe this is Christ pulling Adam and Eve out of the grave, indicating the redemption of the sins of the first humans.
This is Christ, his 12 disciples, and 24 decendents.

Hagia Eirene

The day was getting on and I was tired out from over exposure to sun and mild dehydration. I decided that I had a fairly successful hunt and was prepared to end the first part of my expedition. I could, however, see one more important church on my way back, Hagia Eirene. It is an important addition to my journey because it is one of the few large churches that had not been converted into a mosque. It is just a couple of blocks away from Hagia Sophia, but is still inside the walls of the Topkapi Palace. As a result it was converted into an arsenal. It dates from the sixth century and is now used for a music festival on account of its good acoustics.
I was quite a long ways from it, so I decided to try the public transport system. I still had to walk a kilometer or so to get to the main bus route, so I decided to walk along the old city wall. In some places the wall is quite high and in good shape, in other places it is rather decrepit and houses vagrants. Remarkably, much of the walls are still in tack around the old city. What is remarkable about this is that it was built in the early part of the 5th century. If it weren’t for these remarkably constructed walls, the city may have fallen to the Turks a century earlier; they made the city too impervious to siege. Someday I am going to have to take a more complete tour of the walls, but for the purposes of my current expedition, it was enough to walk along them for a few minuets.
When I got home later that night, I looked in my guide book to find out some more about the walls. One thing that it said that did not shock me was that some areas adjacent to the walls are unsafe for tourists to travel alone. On that short walk I saw some of the most ramshackle looking shanties I have ever seen (next to the one I built). What was more remarkable, though, was that the inhabitants did not show any other outward signs of poverty; they were clean and wore nice clothe, looked well fed. I didn’t really feel threatened, for as with most of the neighborhoods I walked through, there were almost no men around. I suspect that if I would have came in the evening I would have felt differently, as the men here tend to congregate in groups and leer at strangers.
I eventually found my way back to the Sultanahmet area, where the last church I sought was located. I knew exactly where the church was because I had walked past it when I was at the museum. When I got there I proceeded in the same bold manner I had entered all the other churches. However a guard near by informed me that I was not allowed in. Between my poor Turkish and his better English I managed to find out that it was not open to the public, which I found to be odd. I guess it is only open during the music festival, so I am going to have to attend. I did manage to take one good picture of the exterior, which was not easy because of the position of the sun.
That ended my expedition; so tired and eager to write it all down, I headed back to the same bus stop that I arrived at a few hours earlier. I was again greeted by a friendly man with good English who wanted to sell me some carpets. When I told him that I had been here for three weeks I could tell that he was a little disappointed, knowing that I was not as vulnerable now that I was not so fresh (regardless, I can’t afford a couple thousand dollars for a carpet). I got on the bus, and two hour and fifteen minutes later I was home, the same trip took forty minutes earlier in the day.

2006-05-31T01:05:00.000-07:00

Teaching English

As I have just recently started working as an English teacher, this entry will have to be taken as first impressions. In many ways it is the perfect job for me, and I can see myself really liking it. So far the hours are fairly relaxed, only about 4 a day, giving me quite a bit of time to enjoy seeing other parts of the city and to catch up on my reading.
I teach three different beginner courses that range from 3to 15 students. Most of the students are in their early twenties and see knowing English as their primary means to better jobs. They mostly are in the food industry, travel, or business, all of which are types of jobs that interact with non-Turkish speakers quite a bit. Unfortunately I have not met anyone who is hoping to learn English in order to have access to greater fields of literature. I suppose this is natural though, for those with literary inclinations go to universities like Bogazici, where they learn English and study literature, philosophy, history or the like at the same time.
I did, however, get a chance to conduct a short extra-curricular class with some more mature students on literature. I began by talking about the difference between literature and fiction. One of the students mentioned that she had read several Dan Brown novels (which are as popular here as they are in N.A.), which gave me the opportunity to discuss the difference between literature and fiction, a subject that has fascinated me since working in a book store. We then talked about Charles Dickens, which I found out is an author that most Turkish high school students read, in translation of course. Why don’t we read him in Canada? Is the yearly special broadcasts of the Christmas Carol enough to get our dabble of Dickens? I finished the discussion by having the students tell me about some famous Turkish writers. We all lamented that so much great Turkish literature of the Ottoman period is somewhat lost due to the change of script (one of Ataturk’s many reforms was to change the Turkish script from Arabic to the Latin alphabet). It is good for travelers though, for if things were still in the Arabic script I would be totally lost instead of only partially lost.
This class was for me another instance of what I feel to be a natural inclination to teaching. I am finding that explaining grammar is now second nature as I spent so much time grueling over it while writing in university. I may not still read Latin or Greek, but the hours I poured into reconstructing sentences into English have really paid off in an understanding of language. I am also having a lot of fun with it. One of the big challenges is finding inventive ways of making the learning enjoyable; for it is a rare individual who takes great joy in laboring over grammatical points (I just happen to know many of these rare individuals).
I lament that I may possibly only do this for a couple of months, as I think it is great way to live in and learn about another country, especially as I have utilized my position to find out from the students all the good places to see and eat while in Istanbul. I hope, however, that this will only be a first of many such experiences. I recommend that some of you who are reading this consider teaching English as an extension of your education. If you pick someplace such as Istanbul you are bound to find something that will interest you.

2006-05-27T09:44:00.000-07:00

Archeological Museum

For Ancient History Geeks

This museum contains a very impressive collection of works collected from all over the former Ottoman Empire. I focused on the Hellenistic statues, but there was a lot more to see. I am going to have to go back, for there is no way a person can see it all in one day. I took well over 50 pictures, so this is just a small sample. Again, flash photography is limited in places, so bare with me.
These first two pieces are from a funeral sarcophagus (coffin). It is called the sarcophagus of mourning women. There were very detailed carvings all around the piece. I took this corner shot to give a sense of proportion.

Notice the detailed expression of sorrow!

This is the sarcophagus of Alexander, one of the museum's prized pieces. It was by far the most detailed and intricate work in the collection. In many places the color was still traceable. I watched a short video that accompanied the work describing the techniques used to reveal some of the images that were drawn on but worn off with time.
The whole work depicted extremely violent war and hunting scenes.

Giantomache- battle between the giants and the gods. In the left you can see Athena with a shield. This was part of a larger work, but I wanted to show the incredible detail rather then the over all scene.

Marcus Aurulius- Famous philosopher and Roman Emperor. Some of you may know him from the movie Gladiator.

This is Sappho, the most famous female poet of the ancient world. It is hard to get a sense of proportion from the photos, but this was one of the largest busts in the collection.

This is Paris. He was the one that stole Helen, causing the Trojan War. He was also the one who shot Achilles in the heal, killing the great Greek champion. This is a representation of an original. I include it here to show how the statues would have been originally painted. In a few cases you could see slight traces of the original paint.

Marsyas- 3rd century B.C. He was a Satyr that was flayed alive by Apollo for daring to challenge him in a musical competition. The New Music Fest featured works inspired by this story a couple of years ago.

Alexander the Great- 3rd century B.C. This was particularly interesting for me as I am currently reading a book on Alexander by Stephen Pressfield.

2006-05-26T10:38:00.000-07:00

Hagia Sophia

Yesterday I spent some time visiting one of the main spots I needed to see while in Turkey- Hagia Sophia. For those of you that don’t know, Hagia Sophia was the premier church of the Orthodox faith until the fall of Constantinople in 1454, when it was immediately turned into a mosque. For the Muslim invaders, this Church was the symbol of the empire that they sought to usurp, so it is no wonder that they wasted no time in claiming it as their prize. Many other churches suffered the same fate, as I will indicate later on. This take over was one of the greatest affronts perpetrated by one religion onto another in the history of religion. Ironically another significant affront that also occurred in Turkey was Ataturk’s abolishment of the Sulifate in his establishment of the Turkish Republic. Nevertheless, built in the 5th century, it is still one of the most awesome architectural and religious achievements of all time. The following picture is of the mosaic above the entrance, one of the few remaining. If some of the pictures are a little dark, I apologise as I was not allowed to use a flash while inside. Most of my pictures did not turn out on accout of this. I would also be interested to get some feedback on my use of sepia coloring in many of my photos.

This is the best picture I have of the main sanctuary. Unfortunately, during my visit there was a huge scaffold that dominated the center of the sanctuary, so I could only take pictures of the sides. The whole was magnificently grand (minus the scaffold that is). I could easily see how one would have felt that they were in heaven on earth while the liturgy was being performed. As you can see some of the images have been vandalized and the Muslim calligraphy dominates the upper levels. Another of the real tragedies is the state of disrepair. The paint on the walls is coming of in large flakes, and there are weeds growing on the walls outside. If there is no serious restoration effort this building could turn into a decrepit vestige of its former glory. Currently there is some pressure coming from the European Union to restore the church back to its intended use. Currently it is just a museum. I seriously hope that the Turkish government allows this change to occur, for such a turn around would be a glorious thing for all Christians, even non-Orthodox. I suspect that if the Church was able to take possession of it again, there would be immediate restoration efforts, and it would become a major site for Christian pilgrimage, which in turn could help the Christian reunification efforts.

At one time there would have been dozens of such mosaics, but due to disrepair and deliberate vandalism this is one of only one of four or five. Most of them are half fallen apart or worse. This one is in the best shape of the ones on the upper level. Why it was left in tact I don’t know, but I am glad that it was.

Here is one of the long hall ways. It gives you a sense of the color of the ceiling.

This is an example of how the Muslim inhabitants of this building tried to change it. The symbol on the left was a cross, but as you can see the cross beams were scratched out. There are many like this throughout the building.

Here is an example of one of the many “mosques” in Istanbul that looks almost identical in basic design to the Hagia Sophia. Today I learned that in the main part of what used to be Constantinople there were 43 churches that were changed into mosques. This would explain why so many of them look architecturally the same. Some that were not converted, like St. Irene, was turned into an arsenal. It is hard to tell what mosques were once churches, but I suspect that any that look over 500 years old, which is a good many, are in fact converted churches.

2006-05-24T04:44:00.000-07:00

Some Images of Istanbul

This is the view of the Bosporus on the way to the University. Again it is just 5 min. from home. As you can see there are lots of trees. There are so many great views here I could easily bore you with countless photos of them.

This is a shot of Taksim from a third story window on a moderately busy Sunday afternoon. I will take some more shots of Taksim, as I am working in that area and will probably spend a great deal of time there. When it is really busy the streets are a solid mass of people

Here are just a few of the hundreds of men one can see on a Saturday afternoon dropping a line into the Bosporus, hoping for a bite. So far I have not seen a single person catch anything. I suspect that it is just another reason to hang-out, which is definitely a national pastime here. On the right you can see a corn seller. If you are hungry there is never need to dispair, for if you wait two minuits a fellow will come by with a cart and try to sell you something to eat.

Here is a good example of some apartments with one of the two bridges that connect Europe and Asia in the background. This is just a 5 min. walk from my apartment. I knew that there would be many appartment buildings cramped together, but what has surprised me is that there are quite a few houses as well.

This is Mark kissing one of the numerous monuments to Ataturk. A person cannot go two blocks without seeing an image of him somewhere. His pictures are in most stores and all public buildings. As well, numerous public buildings are named after him, most notably the airport. He is the national hero par excellance. Some of us non-Turks are wondering if it is not time for some other national heroes, some variety perhaps. One thing that you do not do here if you want to avoid prison and beatings is speak ill of him. For those of you acquainted with the novel 1984, the image of “big brother” comes to mind.

2006-05-20T10:02:00.000-07:00

Rumeli

Today I spent the afternoon in one of the most beautiful and intact fortress I have ever seen. It made the walls around Quebec look like a pile of rocks. For just 5 lira (I would have paid a hundred to see something like this in Canada) I was granted entry into Rumelihisariustu (I think this is right), a fortification built by the invading Turks in 1452 as a base of operation while they prepared to invade the walls of Constantinople (5 or so miles away). Remarkably, it was built in 4 month and has stood almost perfectly in tact since then. I spent a few hours wandering around and reading Cyrano. It was a perfect oasis in a city of 12 million. I am sure I will spend more time there if I want a quite place to read, reflect and exercise.

This picture offers a sense of the fort in relation to the Bosphorus. The fort was built in a strategic location on the Bosphorus, which allowed the Turks to cut off Constantinople to the south.
The stairs were very steep and narrow, and they went around the entire fortification. The drop off at times was at least 100 feet and there were no stairs.
This is an example of some of the creeping vine along the walls.

There was a little forrest inside with a numer of beautiful trees.

2006-05-17T03:15:00.000-07:00

Culture Shock

I knew that I was going to experience some manner of culture shock upon arriving here. I was not, however, exactly sure how it would manifest, as I have never been to some place quite so novel. The most succinct way to communicate this experience is to compare it with being a child. So many ways of doing things here are quite different, and as such I have to learn them all over again. Taking the bus or making a phone call require special preparation that is not necessarily self-explanatory. Add that to the language barrier and the bustle of a mega-city and it becomes quite easy to feel absolutely helpless. It is true that many people speak English, but not necessarily when and where it would be helpful. I find that many of the people working in the shops and restaurants don’t speak very well. Right now I am living in a neighborhood quite away from the tourist areas, so there is not the same demand for the merchants to speak English. At the same time there are lots of English speaking students, so people around here are accustomed to it.
Nevertheless my guide has been very helpful in showing me around and helping me become more independent. She insists that I take some time to wander around and get lost a little in order to have an authentic travel experience. I have not become lost yet, but I have had to use my limited Turkish vocabulary on a number of occasions to request basic things. I suggest taking the time to gain an elementary grasp of the language when traveling to a place in which English is not in common use. Being able to ask how much something costs and then being able to understand numbers goes a long way towards a feeling of belonging.
I don’t feel that I can get much done though, because I don’t know the rules and customs of so many things. When is it O.K. to barter and when is it rude? Who do I want to buy things from and who should I avoid? What is the custom around tipping? This is just an abbreviated list of the myriad of questions that comes to me as I try to navigate my way through this new place.
I should also mention some of the great things, because it is what I am more struck with (as I write this the Muslim call to prayer is blaring on the loud speaker outside. It has become part of the environment, as it plays several times a day. It can become somewhat ironic at times; for example, last night while the prayer was playing the streets were in a bacchic frenzy over the victory of a local soccer team). The food here is absolutely awesome! They have cheese with nearly every meal, and it is incredibly fresh and tasty. They have a number of different types of cheese, the most common of which is a mix between cottage cheese and feta. There is also an extraordinary excitement all around: merchants yelling, packed streets, a symphony of horns, people walking everywhere. It does not take much to get caught up in the excitement. The scenery is also remarkable in places. The city is full of hills so it does not take much to get up to a high feature for an overview onto the sea. The other day we went to the top of a rooftop patio that overlooked the Marmara and it was spectacular.
To close this entry off I will offer up a few more random impressions that will give you a bit better sense of how I am in such a different land
1) The sidewalks are for parking and the pedestrians walk on the road. The other day Mark mentioned that anyone who complains about parking laws should come here. There doesn’t seem to be parking laws, for I have seen cars parked everywhere: on a boulevard, on the street, on the grass, on the sidewalk. This can cause major congestion, which in turn makes getting anywhere take a long time. One remedy to this problem is the scooter, which is very popular. Perhaps I shall look into one.
2) The cats here are like squirrels in Winnipeg- all over the place. It is rather nice though, because they are not at all wild. They are friendly, well groomed and for the most part appear quite healthy. There are also numerous dogs wandering around. They go about their business in such a casual manner that no one doubts their claim to live there along with everyone else.
3) The craftsmanship here is either exceptionally good or exceptionally poor. I could list a hundred examples after having been here almost a week: doors that don’t fit, holes in the walls, numerous unfinished buildings and sidewalks.
4) Jay-walking is the norm. Sirin has made fun of me for running across the street, because it is understood that if one walks into traffic the cars will slow down or stop. In reference to my second point, I say a cat crossing the street that barely avoided being hit by a car coming the one direction, then barely squeaked by one coming the other direction. The cat did not adjust his speed in the slightest; he walked as care free as though he were in an open space.

2006-05-17T03:03:00.000-07:00

Taksim

Today was my real introduction to Istanbul. Sirin took me to Taksim so I could go the English school I intend to teach at and set things up. We took the metro in the late afternoon, and when we resurfaced I was transported to another world that I have often visited in my dreams but never anything like it in North America. It is the commercial district on the north part of the European side. The main street is called Istiklar, and it is as wide as a normal street, but there are no cars on it, for there is shoulder to shoulder pedestrians. The side streets that feed into it, however, are only narrow enough for one car to go down, but are also too busy for cars. These small streets are a continuous stream of restaurants, bars, and little shops. But I will tell you more about those later.
When we arrived we met with Sirin’s friend Ilkay, who is a Turkish born English teacher. She accompanied us to English Time, for she had worked for them before and I wanted to see if she had any advice. She was barren of advise, but that didn’t matter because I was pretty sure that I had the job secured, I was just a little nervous because I had not heard much from them and I was showing up unannounced on my own initiative. The meeting was interesting for personal reasons, but not worth recounting. I did however see two things that are worth noting, as they will become the fuel for a recurring theme. In one of the rooms that was being renovated there was an amazing motif on the ceiling that would probably shame anything in Winnipeg on account of its elaborate inlay. I commented on it but the woman who was showing me around replied in such a manner which indicated that she had lost amazement with such things long ago. A couple of minuets later we looked out the back on another interesting looking school campus. In the adjoining track/soccer field there was a small group of guys with football equipment on. I noted that the school must be American as the boys looked to be playing American football. The woman corrected me, stating that it was a French school. So there it was, a group of French students playing football in a soccer field in Turkey (I also noticed that one of them was wearing a Maple Leafs’ jersey!). This was the perfect example of the mixed up manner of things in Istanbul that Sirin warned me about. Perfect!
The next item on our itinerary was to see some of the churches in the area (it has many churches but only one mosque). The first one was a Catholic Church that conducted mass in 4 different languages, but it was closed. I will surely see it one day when it is open (I should note that the churches were the only thing closed, for everything else is open far into the night). We then tried to see an Armenian Church. This was interesting, for to get to it we had to go through these large castle like doors in an unassuming side street, then through a narrow corridor, which lead us to the court yard. I could have walked past those doors a few dozen times and never suspected that they led to a courtyard in front of a church. Needless to say, the church was also closed.
Next order of the day was to go for a beer. We went down another unassuming side street and through another set of unmarked doors. This time we went up two very steep stairs to a hip university crowd type bar that played techno music. We had our drink on the most quaint little balcony, which was just large enough for the three of us. From up there we could see onto the tops of the adjacent buildings where others were eating on patios on the tops of buildings. All around us there were people eating, talking and smoking.
From there we went to one of the dozens of little restaurants and I had something very much like a donair (but much better) and had a rich drink that could best be described as drinking sharp cheese (it was also great).
In closing I will share a few images that offer a little more into the dazzling night: old men in traditional costumes selling fresh mussels from a cart; a boy feeding one of the countless stray cats with some raw meet in front of the steps of a Greek church that was also closed; narrow streets filled with people walking along out door patios while men aggressively try and steer you into their restaurant; little shops full of dried fruit, beans and Turkish delight; a policeman with a machine gun; and a Starbucks that served 6$ coffees near a burger king.

2006-05-11T04:47:00.000-07:00

Expectations of Istanbul

I am about to leave the ‘Great Island’ for the first time, embarking on a short journey that should terminate in one of the most ancient inhabitation on the earth. Unlike Odysseus, I shall traverse half the globe in just over 24 hours, hence there should be no elaborate misadventure upon my return. It is amazing how rapid and easy travel is these days, enabling me to put almost no thought into my journey, focusing entirely on my destination. The upside of this new found human strength is that I shall arrive at my destination with all my companions (although I am traveling alone). On the other hand, I will have neither stories of winged women who would woo me with wicked words, nor of ridding a poor creature of his sole means of visual receptivity.
This Blog will contain the reflections of my travels and as such I hope it will be interesting and worth reading. I promise it will be. Either I will have such notable experiences and insights so as to keep my readers on the edge of their swivel leather computer chairs, or I will embellish my mundane tales with enough wit and rhetoric so as to make them linguistically entertaining. Yet, as many of you are likely already versed in the falseness of dichotomies, my diction will likely be a hybrid of the two proposed outcomes.
Now to answer the most likely question on all of your minds- why Istanbul? Well I am not embarking across vast oceans and lands to vanquish the mighty arm of Hector, nor do I intend to set up a great trading empire. My motivation corresponds more closely to the standard reason for making a pilgrimage to the Anatolian lands- to catch a glimpse of the fair descendent of Helen (not literally). It just so happens that she hails from one of the most ancient and mysterious (and crowded) places on our well placed planet. This place will be the subject of my entries, leaving the other tale for the stars.
Here are some of my pre-arrival thoughts. Istanbul is one of the oldest largest or largest oldest cities in the world. It is bigger than Rome, Athens, or Jerusalem, and older by far than New York, Tokyo, or Mexico City. It was the capital of a vast empire when Paris and London were just a sorry collection of mud huts. It has been inhabited by numerous different peoples, most notably the Greeks and Turks. It has also been a cosmopolitan city right from its inception as a bustling seaport and commercial center. It was the main city of two great empires, lasting in this capacity for nearly two millennia. And it contains two of the most important and grand religious buildings in the world.
It is a city on the cusp of so many things. It is the bridge between Asia and Europe, and as such contains the flavors of both. It strives to balance the influence of conservatives and liberals: holding onto so many of its time honored traditions, yet striving for European style freedom and prosperity. It is a profoundly religious place that is uncomfortable with religion, while at the same time it contains some of the most famous markets in the world. One can spend the day walking on streets paved during the Roman Era, then go into a coffee shop and listen to Brian Adams and Cindy Lauper (a bizarre land indeed)
These are some of the reflections that I have of Istanbul as I prepare to arrive. I have formed them from either reading or second hand accounts. In the coming months I will both deepen and verify these reflections, so that you may also have second hand accounts to fuel your imagination and inspire traveling impulses.