Adventure in Turkey!

At first I thought that going to Turkey from Greece would be like rewinding time back to Morocco. Greece is probably 20 years behind the United States, more or less depending on if you are in a village or a city. Morocco was like going back in time 80 years ago, and squatting to pee or poop in every toilet was definitely new and exciting. Turkey, however, is a mixed bag of magic – you never know what the magician will pull out, but you know it will awe you.

Istanbul was very Muslim (like most of Turkey), and at first I enjoyed hearing the prayer call 5 times a day, because it reminds me of devotion, loyalty, spirituality, obedience, and all of those beautiful things that go along with deeply spiritual or religious people. The prayer call is a beautiful singing of the Quran into intercoms, and it can be heard from far away. At 5am when the sun comes up, and during my naptime were the only times I did not enjoy it.

While there, I had the privilege of visiting the Hagia Sofia during the call for prayer. The Agia Sophia was once a Byzantine church. Its style is dome-shaped (Byzantine style) and it was once adorned with frescos and mosaics of saints. When the Muslims came to power, eventually turning Constantinople/Byzantium, into Istanbul, they destroyed most of Christian artifacts and places of worship, and converted the Greek Agia Sophia into a mosque – it’s now the Turkish Hagia Sofia (pronounced with a hard H). It was for this reason that I felt uncomfortable, and unhappy when I visited the ancient church – or what was left of it. Although the Virgin Mary remains above where the altar once was, there are Islamic sayings on either side looking like big black billboards. The church/mosque is very poorly preserved as well - and ancient. From what I understand, it’s highly unusual for any kind of religious service to be held in the Hagia Sofia these days. Don’t get me wrong, I have been in synagogues turned into churches and churches turned into mosques, then back into synagogues and so on – I had always found them more intriguing than sad. Those places of worship were quite beautiful and their history was powerful. The Hagia Sofia, for me, was just sad – interesting, but not beautiful. There was no powerful positive message in her history or her modern use, only destruction and emptiness.

After leaving, I stood outside facing the Blue Mosque that stands across a large park opposite of the Hagia Sofia. I felt blessed when the call to prayer rang out, and I listened for a little while. After the call was sung from Hagia Sofia, it stopped and the singing began from the Blue Mosque, and then it stopped and the Hagia Sofia sang again – back and forth, back and forth. It was the battle of the prayer calls, and it was beautiful. I wish I could understand what was being said. These days I tend to rely on body language and tones in order to understand people – it works pretty well, but not for readings of the Quran.

One of the reasons my dad and I were so excited to be visiting Turkey - aside from being in an unknown land and unknown culture - was because it was the closest either of us have ever been to our ancestral lands of Lebanon and Syria. In fact, we had the great pleasure of having a fully Lebanese night while we were in Istanbul. We went to a dinner show where attractive and talented male and female belly dancers performed, and they served courses of traditional Lebanese food. Some of it was different than the way that we prepare our food, and do our dances – but it was Lebanese with a Turkish twist.

One of the funny adventures that we had in Istanbul included stalking the Patriarch of Constantinople so that we could receive his blessing. After learning that it was unlikely for us to be granted an audience, we went to the island of Hulki to visit the old Orthodox seminary there, and we also made a pilgrimage to the Patriarchal Fenar where we stayed for an evening service. Unfortunately, we kept missing the Patriarch just as he was leaving. (In case you didn't know there are few Patriarchal leaders of the Orthodox church in the world, and meeting them is like meeting the Pope.) In our undercover hunt we became quite familiar with the back of his Mercedes and its blacked out windows. We did get to see him briefly as he left Hulki to return to Istanbul from his short vacation there. My dad and I were standing behind the church at the seminary when we heard that the Patriarch was leaving, so we ran to the front of the church where the exit road was. I did everything short of yelling “tin efhisas! Your blessing!” as I ran to where his entourage waited. He turned and waved, and then he was off. Seeing him in the flesh was just as cool as anything. I hope that some day my dad receives his blessing though, because I know that’s a desire of his heart.

After nearly a week of walking around Istanbul, getting used to eating Kebab for every meal, stalking the Patriarch, and bargaining at the Grand Bazaar  - we were more than ready to move on to Cappadocia! - the land where dreams come true.

It was like a fairly tale in Cappadocia. The people were warm, helpful, friendly, and always interesting to learn from – and the terrain was nothing like I had ever seen before. It was the Grand Canyon and the Sahara Desert in one package. Cappadocia (or Kapadokya in Turkish) looked like sand piles molded into different shapes, but when closer, it is unexpectedly hard rock. No wonder people live in caves here - thanks to the chemicals from the volcanic lava that originally made the valley thousands of years ago, its warm in the winter and cold in the summer.

We woke up our first morning, at 4:30am so that my dad could conquer his fear of heights by watching the sunrise from a hot air balloon! We floated up gently, while befriending the master driver, and laughing the whole way. Laughter is the best way to cope!

Cappadocia is the world capital for hot air balloons. We saw the skies filled with balloons, near and far, with different colors or logos. It was something I had never seen before – and unless I woke up at 5:30am and drove around the mountain that blocked the view from our hotel, I would probably not see it again.

After an exilerating ride, we had glasses of champagne to celebrate a successful landing, following by a brief nap before moving on to explore the valley.

In Cappadocia, many people live in caves, and have been living in caves since before the time of Christ. In the cave villages we explored churches from the Byzantine times – most of which are now preserved in open-air museums. In the churches were fresco (paint on plastered walls) and secco (paint directly on walls). The paintings appeared like cave drawings, and many of the icons that remained had eyes scraped off from when Islam took over the region. The icons made at that time, and even now, have eyes that appear to be following you in the room. They see everywhere. The Muslims did not like this component of Byzantine art, so during the time when Christianity was banned, the extreme Muslims scraped off the eyes of the saints. Interestingly enough, in all of the churches I went to, the eyes of Jesus and the Virgin Mary still remained.

Remember how I said that the only way I would see the hot air balloons again would be if I woke up at 5:30am and drove around the mountain that blocks the view from my hotel? Well, the day before leaving Cappadocia, my dad and I woke up early to go hiking, so that we could see the hot air balloons and the sun rising one last time before we left. I hiked to the top of a panoramic viewpoint where I faced the hot air balloons in front of me, and the sun rose from behind. Just before the sun came up, all of the hot air balloons glowed from the light of their fire, and lit the sky like 100 bright stars blinking. The sun came from behind Euclydes volcano 60km away in Kayseri, and slowly, but surely, touched every inch of the rocky volcanic terrain of the valley.

Our last day in the Cappadocia region was spent in Kayseri, Turkey. Kayseri was the birthplace of Saint Basil the Great during the time of Assyria. However, there were no remains, relics, or religious sanctuaries to pilgrim to. The city was highly developed, but quite obviously a more conservative section of the country, and the only place in Turkey where the vibe made us feel unwelcomed. That same day, we flew from Kayseri to Izmir, where locals told us that Kayseri was quite conservative and their least favorite city in Turkey. Izmir was the opposite. It was less touristic than Istanbul, better developed (similar to cities in Europe and the U.S.) and highly secular. And to put the cherry on top, the seafood was the best that I had eaten (outside of Greece and Norway). There we walked the bazaar, and sat for hours drinking Turkish coffee, smoking nargile (Turkish waterpipe) and playing toula (backgammon).

From Izmir, we drove to the ancient ruins of Ephesus, and walked about the marble town through Byzantine ruins and memorial sites, until we grew wet and tired from the rain.

Not far from Ephesus was where we were staying - through the mountains to a secluded ancient Greek village called Širençe (pronounced shee-ren-jay). Širençe is known for their local fruit wines. The entire town shut downs at 8pm - its the village life. After Ephesus, before we were too late, we walked to a wine shop. We drank flights (tastings) of fruit wine from mulberry, cherry, and raspberry, to apple, blackcurrant, and blueberry - until finally we settled on our old friend Cabernet Sauvignon. 

Since we traveled during the off-season, the village was essentially deserted. Restaurants would only stay open if people were eating in them, and the last to close was one out of dozens of wine shops. A 9pm bedtime, and plenty of rest-time was perfect after a very busy couple of months, so my dad and I enjoyed relaxing by the fireplace and playing board games.

Back in Izmir, I learned about Pamukkale/Heiropoulos, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site near Denzli, Turkey. About a 3 hour drive from where we were stayig. The ancient Greek ruins of Heiropoulos remain from a city built on top of a travertine covered mountain. The combination of sulfur from the hot springs there, and the surrounding environment, caused the mountain to be pure white travertine. In order to preserve the travertine, shoes are not allowed on the white walking path that connects all of the hot spring baths. So on our free day, we drove there and, in cold wet rain, we hiked up the mountain with shoes in hand, and relieved ourselves from the cold every time we reached hot water – which wasn’t frequent! It was a challenge! During the summer busy season, the baths are overflowing, and the weather is hot – but during the winter many of the baths were cold, and dried out. It wasn’t until we reached the top that we relaxed our feet in Jacuzzi-hot fresh water. By then, we desperately wanted to dry off and put on wool socks.

On top of the mountain are the ruins of Heiropoulos, where Saint Phillip once resided. There we paid homage to the first burial place of St. Phillip (coincidentally we were there on the day that he was celebrated in the church), and we walked around the ruins of the original Apollo Theatre (so it was another Friday at the Apollo). Nearby, we hiked hills and saw beautiful views overlooking Denzli and Pamukkale, until finally it was time to kick off our socks and sneakers and head back down the mountain for one last night in Širençe.

Since our flight was out of Izmir, my dad and I returned to Izmir for our last night together in Turkey. The party continued when on from Izmir to the Istanbul airport until finally my dad and I shared our tearful goodbye.

After that, it was an enjoyable 8 hours (but then delayed to) 13 hours in the airport before flying to Kathmandu, Nepal.

I am so proud of my dad for overcoming his fears, and being open to new things during our trip. I became well traveled in the last three months of Europe, so he began to look to me for answers to travel questions. It made me feel smart and special for being trusted (at times), and for knowing what I’m talking about (at times). It was the most amazing experience to share all of this time with my dad. The last month was the most time we ever spent together in my life and I had him all to myself! He has come so far as a father and a person, and I basked in his loving moments, and we were able to grow together during our occasional conflicts. I left from him feeling extraordinarily grateful and blessed for our experience together. I already miss having a partner who shares love and trust with me. Inshallah we will do it all again some day soon.

Cheers.