Istanbul

The BYU students have three long field trips every semester: four days to Jordan, ten days to Galilee, and eight days to Turkey. Ed has been to Turkey a few times on his own for research, and it might be his favorite place in the world to go. So I was beyond excited when my dear friend Miriam (who you will meet briefly in a later post) was willing to watch the kids for five days so I could spend a long weekend with Ed in Istanbul in May, adjacent to the student field trip. Ed and I got to Istanbul on Friday the 17th, met up with the students on Sunday evening the 19th, then when the students left for the bus tour of the west coast on Tuesday the 21st, I flew back to Jerusalem to relieve Miriam. It was a fantastic getaway, and I fell in love with Istanbul. The people are open and friendly and thoroughly enjoy hearing Ed's "Tarzanja" Turkish when he tries to speak with them. Turkey opens something in Ed, makes him happy and alive and remarkably carefree. I think Istanbul would be a delightful place to live for awhile.

The first day: 

After checking in to our hotel, we skipped around the corner for a light lunch overlooking the river, after which we returned to the hotel to enjoy a Turkish Bath. The bath was relaxing and afterwards we allowed ourselves to nap for a couple hours. (I couldn't help but marvel at the luxury of quietly napping between 5 and 7 pm, normally the craziest hours of my day.) Then we headed across the river to explore the neighborhood around Galata Tower (near Taksim Square, the location of all the recent protests) and have a late dinner at a restaurant on the walking street. We had the best table in the house. 

Looking down from the terrace and our table.

From dinner we headed to Nardis Jazz Club, where we had reservations to hear a Latin jazz group called La Descarga. The show was in Turkish, Spanish, Portuguese and English, and the music was fantastic. We sat right next to the stage where I could almost get kicked by the singers. 

What a party!

I know the quality of this video isn't great, but I hope you can get a sense for the great music.

The show ended around 2:00 a.m., and we meandered back to our hotel, enjoying the sounds of the city. Our hotel was in a quiet, residential neighborhood near the Suleymaniye Mosque. At night, the birds are attracted to the lights of the mosques, and they fly in swarms around the minarets, catching the light like shooting stars. I felt carefree to be out so late, in such a beautiful and exciting city, with my favorite person. It was the perfect start to vacation. 

Wandering around the city together:

The very best part of our trip was just wandering together. On Saturday we found a tiny little neighborhood library and chatted with the college-age librarian on duty there. After some trial and error, we found the right bus to take us to the amazing Kariye Muzesi, a Byzantine church filled with mosaics illustrating stories from the Old Testament and the life of Christ. From there we stopped at a porcelain manufacturer and came away with two beautiful pieces for our living room. We had them shipped home and Rachel and Leslie put them up for us. I can't wait to see them in my own house!

Just for fun, here's the rug Ed bought on his last trip to Turkey:

The buildings in the border represent a synagogue, a mosque and a Christian church; hence, it symbolizes peace.

For lunch we found a garden restaurant called Asitane that served Turkish recipes recreated from archaeological evidence of Ottoman palace kitchen supply lists. The food was delicious and the setting was peaceful. If you follow the link above, the home page shows a picture of exactly what I had for my entree. 

Ed playing with the camera at Asitane.

We wandered through the neighborhood, stopping for awhile in a park to have an ice cream and watch the families enjoying the afternoon, then made our way to the waterfront (of the Golden Horn), hoping to find a water taxi. None were available, so we hopped on a bus to see where it would take us and we ended up in a delightful neighborhood at the end of the Horn named Eyup (Ay-oop). It was the first day of a holiday weekend, so people were out in the city center, there were multiple weddings going on at the local mosques, and everywhere there was a relaxed, jovial mood.

Resting in a park, it's my turn to play with the camera. 

We kept seeing young men dressed up like little Sultans. Obviously there was some special occasion being commemorated, and Ed of course guessed it. It was circumcision day for the little prince! He gets to dress up, carry a fake dagger, and spend all day feasting on candy and being taken to all sorts of fun places. Then the next morning is rude awakening when he goes to the clinic and. . . .

The poor kid looks so happy. . . .

Ed and two local Turkmen he befriended in Eyup.

View towards downtown Istanbul from the gondola at the end of the Golden Horn.

Heading back to the hotel at 11:00pm, Ed wanted to hop into this barbershop for a quick, 4 lira shave. He loves to get a shave in Turkey. He loves the closeness of the straight razor, but even more he loves the flaming cotton ball they use to burn the hairs off the tips of his ears. Sounds crazy, but these barbers obviously know what they're doing. While Ed was getting his shave, the barber asked if I wanted a facial. I turned him down three or four times, then finally capitulated. Well, remember this barbershop is all men--run by men for men. I felt a little awkward. He applied a strawberry mud mask that looked like a tube from the dollar rack at Wal-mart, then proceeded to wax my entire face. Twice. Which he followed up with the string treatment. I was in pain. The barber was having the time of his life. 

So the 4 lira shave became a 40 lira spa treatment, and I had an enlightening cultural experience. And I have to admit that despite the pain, my face had a beautiful, youthful luster for two days afterwards. 

The official tour:

We tried to see the Hagia Sophia on Sunday morning, but didn't have time to wait in line if we wanted to get to church on time. So we went to church, then after a failed attempt to see the whirling dervishes (thanks to my prideful and faulty sense of direction), we joined up with the students and faculty for dinner. From that point on, our trip was significantly more structured. Much of our time was spent at mosques, a palace, archaeological sites, and shopping in the Grand Bazaar. 

I have seen a lot of mosques in Israel, but I've never experienced anything like the mosques of Istanbul. Before joining the group, we had gone on Saturday morning to see the Suleymaniye Mosque, and it moved me to tears just to enter the outer courtyard. I'm not sure if it was truly my favorite, or just the first one I saw, but it seemed to outshine both the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia. Perhaps because it is located in a quiet neighborhood with far fewer tourists, it seemed to emit a greater sense of grandeur and worship than those mosques in the more crowded parts of town.

The Suleymaniye Mosque and grounds.

My first glimpse. Thanks for taking this picture, Ed.

Ed at the Blue Mosque with the new camera. I'm glad he's found a portable hobby that takes little to no preparation to enjoy (unlike woodworking).

Each of the mosques prominently displayed this sign. I couldn't help but note the irony, wishing that all it took for the world's people to understand one another was to drop into an information center for free, live information.

No shoes are allowed inside a mosque, so we did a lot of on and off.

One of Ed's great photos, this one of the Blue Mosque.

A mosque in the neighborhood of Eyup. We liked the contrast of gently round domes and starkly bare tree trunks.

We spent a few hours at the Topkapi palace, the home of Ottoman sultans from approximately 1450 to 1850 AD. It is so very unlike European palaces, luxurious in an entirely different way. The most prevalent reminder of this opulence is in the tile and wood detail work.

An inlaid door, with gold accents, bordered by two different patterns of marquetry.

The same wood door as above, both carved and inlaid with accent woods and mother-of-pearl.

A small portion of one wall of one room. Every bit of wall and ceiling was covered with different tile patterns.

Another wall. 

More tile. I love the green.

A tile, close-up.

Want to make your own tiles? Here's a great book that illustrates how to recreate some of the more famous patterns. (We found this at the Kariye Muzesi gift shop, but couldn't bear to pay 40 TL for it (approx $20). 

I also learned that I really like Turkish miniatures, stylized scenes--often maps, or of hunting parties--painted on tiles, similar to Persian miniatures.

This is just a small portion of one wall in the subway. Each of those tiles is approximately 6"x6". Maybe after our next trip to Turkey (and winning the lottery), we can retile our bathroom with something like this.

We visited the Byzantine era cistern across the street from the Palace, where water was stored for all the royal needs. It was originally constructed in the 6th century AD, and was used all the way into modern times. When you walk on the street above, you have no idea you are walking on top of an engineering marvel. 

To better envision the scale of this place, notice the person on the far right of the photo. 

Shopping in the textile district:

As is common everywhere outside America, Istanbul doesn't have mega-stores. There is no Joann Fabrics to drive to when you embark on a sewing project. Rather, along a given street, each store specializes in one sort of product:

Ribbons and bands. . . 

Metal buckles, rivets, and decorations. . . . 

Yarn. . . 

Threads. . . 

 and buttons.

Huzun:

After his trip to Turkey in March, Ed decided to introduce us to Orhan Pamuk, the Turkish Nobel Prize-winning writer. He brought home Pamuk's Istanbul Memories, in which Pamuk remembers his growing up years in Istanbul, and the simultaneous deterioration of his family and his beloved city. He describes the feeling Istanbulus have about their city as "huzun," a melancholy resulting from the faded glory of the Ottoman empire juxtaposed with the modern poverty and decay of the city. Ed and I spent some of the weekend trying to understand what Orhan was talking about. I think some of these pictures illustrate it well.

These dilapidated row houses were quite nice in their day.

Contrast the beautiful brickwork on the road with the newer but more rundown homes. 

Some kids playing ball in the street. Ed loves to take pictures of Turkish kids.
Again, look at the road's amazing brickwork.

We took a boat tour up the Bosphorus with the students, toward the Black Sea. The shoreline on both sides of the river is dotted with old mansions, castles, and royal residences that have been turned into hotels and schools, but most of them sit empty with broken windows. I have no pictures of this--why do I not take pictures of the things I am going to remember the most?

On the boat: me with Nancy Jackson, the wife of the associate director and a good friend. She has been a great support to me this year, as well as a tolerant and generous neighbor.

I'm telling you--the Turks love Ed because he tries so hard to speak to them in Turkish. Here the boat captain was so taken with him that he actually let Ed adjust the throttle when it was time to turn the boat around and head back.

The End (at least for me):

I was very sad to leave Turkey, sadder knowing I wouldn't get another delicious breakfast of meat, cheese and potato pastries. 

At the bakery around the corner from our hotel. 

After I said goodbye to the group, Ed and the students took a five day bus tour of Western Turkey, including Gallipoli, Troy, Bursa, Sardis, and Ephesus.  

The model of the Trojan Horse used for the move Troy, starring Brad Pitt.

Ed at Pergamon. 

Once again, my record is almost completely lacking in the things other people in our family have experienced.