So much has happened on this trip. So much seen, tasted, felt, wondered over, wondered about. Friendships made. Contagious laughter. Tears at our departing gathering.
So much to think about.
This blog doesn’t end here. It will take time to put together more entries.
Stay tuned…
NOTE: This special trip to Turkey is much more than a visit to various tourist sites and a sampling of warm Turkish hospitality. We are learning so much about Turkey – particularly the Gulan movement, education, and politics. But it’s hard to find time to synthesize it and write a blog on it. The following will give you an idea as to why this is so.
At 6:30 a.m. Monday, July 11, I wake up, finish some computer work, get ready for the day, have breakfast.
Two hours later, we leave the hotel in Izmir for the airport, bound for Antalya, a city of nearly 1 million on the south coast of Turkey that is a huge tourist destination.
After a short walking tour of Antalya, we arrive at a carpet shop. We sit around the showroom; tea and other drinks are served. The owner proceeds to give a history of Turkish carpets, dating back to the Bedouins. Carpet after carpet is unfurled on the floor in front of us, as descriptions are given of the materials used, the colors, the age of each. It is an elaborate and informative sales pitch.
Several in the group inspect the carpets for possible purchase. Tina and Esau walk out happily with packages.
We drive to Duden. Yavouz, one of our guide/hosts, tells us we are about to enter heaven and he is right. At the foot of a waterfall is our outdoor restaurant, shady and cool from the water. When Yavouz talks about heaven, he is also referring to the trout that he and several others order. Another wonderful Turkish meal.
We then head to the ancient Roman Aspendos Amphitheater, built in the 2nd century. It is a soaring and beautifully preserved structure that can seat up to 20,000 people. The acoustics are genius. Tina and Susie sing a lovely rendition of “Amazing Grace,” and we hear them clearly, way at the top of the amphitheater. Enthusiastic applause comes from those in our group, as well as the handful of Turks visiting the site in the later afternoon.
Back on the bus for a four-hour drive to Konya, where the poet and mystic Rumi lived and died and where his remains are entombed. The drive is beautiful through the mountains. Near sunset, we stop at a large rest stop, have tea and snacks. I challenge Emre, a Turkish student who just finished at SMC and will enter UC Berkeley next year, to a game of foosball. He wins it, 6-4.
We arrive at the hotel in Konya at about 10 p.m. Dinner follows and I am back in the room at 11 p.m.
From 11 p.m. to 1 a.m., I upload pictures on Facebook and write a blog.
And so ends another day in Turkey.
About five hours later, I will be arising to another full day.
Who knew that our group of educators and clergy on this trip to Turkey would turn into Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson wannabes?
All we needed were an upbeat Turkish tempo pulsing through a town square, an encouraging Turkish host, and a festive mood, fostered by a delicious meal and wonderful company.
It’s official: We have become wedding crashers.
Summer is the traditional season for Turkish weddings, and Sundays are common days to tie the knot. It’s a warm and breezy Sunday afternoon when we arrive in Izmir, Turkey’s third-largest city situated on a sparkling blue bay on the Aegean coast.
Auspicious signs soon appear. As our bus pulls up to a stoplight, we look over to see in the car next to us a brand-new groom and bride, the latter dressed in a beautiful white dress with head scarf to match. There is much horn honking, waving and clapping as we congratulate the newlyweds with thumbs-up and smiles through the window.
Later, as we make our way on foot to the ferry for a leisurely ride across the bay, another car bearing bride and groom honks at us. Again, much waving the gesturing.
“Run after the car, and they’ll give you money,” Emre, a proud SMC alum and one of our guides, tells us.
Sure enough, we see that a young man has chased the car down, and money is passed to him through the window.
This is great fun. We like Turkish weddings already.
Marriage rituals are soon forgotten, however, as we settle down to yet another heavenly restaurant meal, hosted by two delightful Turkish couples.
We emerge from the restaurant to a crowded town square, pulsing with people and energy. And then we hear the music. Distinctly Turkish with a contagious beat. We must find out what it is.
One of our dinner hosts, Sezgin Sagir, a jovial man, guides us just a few yards and we come upon a large outdoor patio. Wedding guests are seated at long tables, but our eyes turn almost immediately to the dance floor, packed with women moving to a live band.
We hang back near the entrance as eyes turn on us: Who are these foreign tourists and what the heck are they doing here?
We balk but Sezgin is fearless. He ushers us boldly through the tables right up to the stage. It’s not long before Tina and Rosa are on the dance floor. The bride makes her way to the wedding crashers, welcoming us and dancing her heart out. The mother of the bride pulls Phyllis into the mix. Sezgin joins in, unconcerned that he is the only man on the floor. He tries to get us all to dance, and some of us join him.
The music is hot, drumbeat-driven, and we’re all swept up in the celebration.
It turns out wedding crashing in Turkey is not a risky venture. Turns out crashers are welcome at weddings throughout the Middle East, our scholar Gary tells us later.
But by the time we leave we don’t care. We are sweating with joy too much and still feeling a little like renegades.
Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson: Eat your hearts out.
If there’s anything that personifies the essence of this trip, it is the first stop on our first full day in Istanbul: Hagia Sophia. This astonishing and ancient landmark was built as a grand Byzantine Church in the fifth century, converted to a mosque by the Ottomans in 1453 and is now a living, breathing museum unlike anything in the world.
I say living and breathing because Hagia Sophia is a work in progress. Its history is uncovered as workers painstakingly peel back some of the Islamic plaster to reveal its Christian past. What is emerging is a fascinating look at two of the world’s great religions in this one significant place where East meets West.
Artistry and craftsmanship provide the narrative:
The sultan’s prayer platform remains next to the Christian altar where, high above, the image of the Virgin Mary holding the child Jesus is seen.
Behind golden Islamic medallions are the faces of painted Christian angels (depictions of faces in a mosque are forbidden.)
Large medallions of the names of Allah, Mohammed and his religious successors are near Christian mosaics that had been covered up but are now emerging into view.
Here is Islam side by side with Christianity.
Here, in a sense, is a representation of the peaceful coexistence of Christianity and Islam in Turkey since the beginning of Ottoman rule in the late 1200s. Modern Turkey may be 99 percent Muslim, but its religious minorities continue to be respected and valued as part of the country’s culture.
(Later, our group will learn of an equally harmonious relationship with Turkey’s Jews, dating back to 1077, when we visit the Jewish Museum in Istanbul.)
Pacifica Institute, our host on this trip, is committed to interfaith dialogue. Pacifica wants to let people know of Turkey’s history of harmonious religious coexistence.
Hagia Sophia tells the story beautifully.
After 15 hours in transit, with a layover in Frankfurt, Germany, we arrive in Istanbul – jetlagged punchy, excited, anticipatory.
A nice surprise awaits us: At the airport is Emre, one of SMC’s brightest students who will be transferring to UC Berkeley next school year. Emre is to be one of our guides over the next 10 days, and he will prove to offer wonderful insight, good humor and unflappability even as some of us lag and he has to chase us down so we don’t miss the bus to our next stop.
There are four of us from Santa Monica College and three others we meet at the airport. Five others we will meet at the hotel. We make up a neat dozen, not including Emre and our other gracious and patient guide, Yavouz, on this Pacifica Institute-sponsored trip.
Our group includes a Baptist pastor. A Middle East expert from UC Santa Barbara. Teachers from the San Fernando Valley. We are all academics or clergy, but come from wildly varying backgrounds and will reveal distinctive personalities. We are linked by a common desire to soak this 10-day experience in as if in a Turkish bath.
After checking into the hotel in the old section of this city of 15 million people, we get our first Turkish treat – dinner, which includes grilled meat, eggplant prepared by what must be culinary gods, refreshing yogurt, bread out of the oven and more.
The next day starts at 9 a.m. and we will have a very full schedule, as we will over the next 10 days. It’s off to bed.
The adventure REALLY begins now.
