Istanbul – A Different World

After a tearful morning in France, we delivered the car and lifted off from French soil as tears ran down my face.
A few hours later, we landed in Istanbul. The uniqueness of Turkey was not immediately apparent as we were driven past large stores, car dealerships and shopping malls that – except for the different letters – might be in the U.S. But the next day, the differences came into view. Around 6AM we woke to the sounds of chanting as the morning’s first call-to-prayers were sung from the mosque across the street. A few hours later we met our guide, Yesim, for a day of exploring the city.

Stepping outside into the brisk morning, the atmosphere immediately felt different. Gone were the shuttered, stone buildings with quiet streets. Here a bustling, busy energy pulsed. It felt hectic in a semi-organized way even though everything we encountered functioned efficiently. We were in the heart of the old city, dense and tightly packed. Three to five story buildings lined narrow streets with shops stacked one on top of the other sometimes three high. Men busily rolled boxes, delivered luggage, and readied shops for the crush of people on the streets. All around was a whirl of activity.

People jostled along as sidewalks inexplicably narrowed then widened along the narrow, car-packed streets jammed with taxis, tour buses and autos vying for the same slim piece of pavement. Yesim and her driver escorted us around town in a mid-sized bus with automatic sliding doors. Due to the parking and traffic pressures, our driver would drop us off, circle the block, and come back down the street with the sliding door open for us to jump in as he coasted to a quick stop. He got us everywhere we wanted to visit and we were very thankful to not be driving.

The people, gracious and polite, also seemed different due to their uniformly dark coloring. The women were fashionably dressed, coiffed and made-up to accentuate their thick, black hair and eyes the color of dark chocolate (I know that color well!). A few women – maybe 25% - kept their hair covered with scarves. The shops seemed to be primarily run by men who waited by the door calling to passersby coaxing them in. It was clearly common practice – but it felt a bit uncomfortable for US sensibilities. Both of us, blond and fair, seemed to be a particularly noticeable target for attention. They took one look at me and start guessing. If I didn’t respond in English, they call after me – German? Scandinavian? When we ignored them, they were good natured about it and recovered quickly. As we walked back from a lovely dinner along the waterfront a man tried to get us into his restaurant. In one breath he said as we passed, “Excuse me, hello, thank you, bye-bye.” We laughed all the way back!

This was our first time to visit a primarily Muslim country. I was entranced by the mosques, and the chanting of prayer times from the tall, slim minarets. The old city, as viewed from across the Golden Horn, is a landscape of minarets spires clustered around the large mosques – so different from the cathedrals to which we’d grown accustomed. The biggest mosques have a large central dome surrounded by half-domes of decreasing sizes. The complex looks like a mound of bubbles guarded by the spires of the minarets. Inside the complex the mosque becomes a center of activity and life. Schools, hospitals and soup kitchens accompany the mosques.

The only functioning mosque that we visited was the Sultanahmet Mosque. The base of the building is surrounded by water faucets for washing before prayers.
Holding a plastic bag with my shoes, we stepped into the mosque. I was overwhelmed by the spaciousness and simplicity. Unlike a European cathedral with its narrow naves and ornate sculptures stacked one on top of the other, the mosque was open with clear views across the entire building with its circle of domes. It felt like being inside a bubble – calming and ethereal, particularly since the interior was covered with predominantly blue tiles (hence the name Blue Mosque). The Moslem religion doesn’t allow ornamentation except for calligraphy (prayers) or floral designs; consequently, the tiles are detailed, winding floral designs. The pattern changes with every wall. What sounds gaudy looks balanced and delicate. And the floor was covered – all of it – with red flowered carpeting with subtle triangular patterns pointing toward Mecca. The design serves as markers for those praying.

No visit to Istanbul would be complete without a stroll through the Grand Bazaar and the spice market filled with colors, hookahs, samovars, jewelry, saffron, curries, lamps, rugs, Turkish towels, scarves and anything else you can imagine. Oranges and pomegranates are pressed as you watch into refreshing drinks. The air smelled of warm, roasting chestnuts and hot coffee.
While the shops were fun, my favorite thing was the guy shuttling Turkish tea to shop keepers. He zipped through the crowds with a silver tray held from chains while tulip shaped glasses of warm tea crowded the tray.

Istanbul, unlike most of the other places we visited has a layered history – first as Byzantium, then as Constantinople, and finally as Istanbul. Roman and Ottoman histories interweave in the landscape of religious sites, obelisks and palaces.
For example, the old Roman hippodrome – where chariot races were held centuries ago – sits close to the Sultanahmet Mosque. The roads of the modern city occupy the ancient race track but the center space retains the original obelisks. One obelisk clearly looked Egyptian and new. I was right about the Egyptian part, but it was 600 years old – definitely not new. It was brought from Egypt to Istanbul by the Romans as a symbol of their conquest. Apparently, the Romans took obelisks to other locations around the world, too. It was sort of like saying “Cesar was here” at a grand scale.

A short walk away was the Topkapi Palace the home of the Sultans of the Ottoman Empire. The palace compound sprawled over the point of land next to the Bosphorus – a beautiful spot. Part of the building complex (which housed more than 1500 people) included the Sultan’s harem. The harem is the space where the women lived and what a life it was. Educated and pampered (including their own huge swimming pool), these women had a world of their own – except when chose by the sultan. The more they were “chosen” the higher their rank in the harem – second only to the official wife. Next to the harem was the chamber where the counsel of leaders from various parts of the empire gathered to discuss official business. The Sultan had a screened door overhead so that he could listen in without being seen. The visitors never knew if he was there or not - sort of a WikiLeaks for the Sultan.
We saw the treasury of fantastically jeweled stuff – pendants, flasks, jars, ornaments for the Sultan's turban, thrones and swords. Noteworthy was the Topkapi dagger with its jeweled hilt of three golf-ball sized emeralds. And there was an 86 carat Kasikci diamond also to be worn in the Sultan’s turban. I haven’t seen this much gold and jewels since the Vatican.

We stopped for lunch inside the Topkapi Palace and enjoyed a traditional meal of lamb, eggplant, grilled meat, and lentil soup. But the highlight was Mike’s coffee reading. After finishing his coffee, Yesim turned the cup upside down in the saucer and allowed it to cool. From the remnants in the bottom and along the sides she told Mike’s fortune. He has at least 5 upcoming trips, there is a deep hurt in his heart, an eagle-like person is in his life, and he’s coming into a great deal of money (his first Social Security check?)

While I’m at it, I should mention how different the Turkish food was, too. French patisseries were replaced by shops selling a beautiful array of candies using pistachios, hazelnuts, apricots, filo pastry, helva, and of course, Mike’s favorite, Turkish Delight. Yogurt is also big here so I tried a couple of yogurt drinks like ayran, a yogurt & water drink that looks like 2% milk but tastes like plain yogurt. My favorite was sapel – a hot, thick, yogurt-based drink with a creamy taste and texture. It is served warm and sprinkled with cinnamon. It may be better than hot chocolate!

After a busy day of touring in the cold, we decided to try a Turkish bath or hamani at the Cagaloglu Hamani. Men and women have separate areas so Mike and I parted ways. I was led by a very large woman to a changing room and given a towel and funky wooden slippers. Wrapped in my towel and precariously perched on my slippers (think wooden clogs with only a thin strap across the toes), Fatima let me to the bath. It was a large round, domed room – all in marble with columns around the perimeter. It was almost empty. She sat me down by a marble basin with water running into it and showed me that I was to pour water all over myself, and she’d return shortly after my skin warmed.
So – there I sat trying not to feel self conscious. I kept pouring warm water all over me and found myself relaxing into the experience. Once I got past thinking about it, it began to feel decadent and luxurious in a forbidden sort of way. Fatima returned, had me lay down on the warm marble and proceeded to loofah my skin all over – and I mean she scoured me! Then she washed my hair and not a washing like at Hudson Fouquet where they are careful to keep water out of your eyes. Here, she suds-ed me up with soap, rubbed it over me face and dumped buckets of warm water over my head. It was so unexpected, I had to laugh with soap running into my mouth. When she finished, I sat some more, pouring water over me before drying off, dressing and returning to Mike. We were warm, calm and relaxed as we walked to dinner. What a delightful experience.

Our next day was sunny but still cold. Yesim took us to yet more sites. We saw the Petra Palace Hotel originally built for the Orient Express customers. It was recently renovated and is a beautiful hotel.

Many of the major monuments here – like the churches – are illustrations of Istanbul’s layers of history like the Kariype Museum otherwise known as the Chora Church.
This church was built in the 6th century in the byzantine era. Inside the church is covered in mosaics of incredible detail. Tiny tiles of glass backed with gold, mini-squares of lapis all worked into scenes from Biblical times. Most of the depictions were of Mary’s history – her birth, childhood, marriage and motherhood. When the Ottoman’s took over, rather than destroying the mosaics, they covered them in plaster, which had the impact of preserving them as they are now.

The Hagia Sophia (Holy Wisdom) has a similar varied past. Hagia Sophia is a 6th century building also with a large central dome. So large, in fact, that it’s size was not exceeded for 1000 years (that’s not a typo….1,000 years). It started as a Greek Orthodox Church, was converted to a mosque than into a Christian church and is now a museum open to the public so as to protect the building and the art it embodies. The space is large and open inside – like the Blue Mosque – with mosaics of Christ and Mary (that’s the Christian history) and Arabic calligraphy (from its mosque heritage). A tidbit - So and so was in Istanbul on a military campaign and died here. He is buried inside the Hagia Sophia – on the second floor. Think about it.

Across from the Hagia Sophia is an underground water reservoir. It’s an underground chamber of light and rhythm – column and after column in all directions. It was constructed of used columns collected from monuments over the world that were rejects from the construction of the Hagia Sophia. An elegant reuse of materials. Two columns stand on used Medusa head sculptures – one sideways and the other upside down – just in case she could still turn workers to stone. You can't be too careful when it comes to Medusa.

In Istanbul, it feels like we’re straddling two worlds. On one hand, the rich mosaics of the Cora Church ? represent scenes from the Bible – many of which occur in Turkey. Ephesus, for example, is in Turkey as is the town where Mary reportedly lived and is buried. It is, of course, legend, but it is enough of a legend that three Popes have visited the site. I remember in Sunday School, learning about Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. It takes on new life being a short distance from this place immortalized in history. Similarly, European history is entwined here, too. The Ottoman Empire, headquartered in Constantinople, stretched to Austria where we saw some of the history there. Slowly, the vast family relationships are beginning – just beginning – to link together now. Only in Istanbul, though, have we seen the dramatic shifts in cultures over the centuries. All left their marks here and it is fascinating to unpeel the layers.

We’ve only had a glimpse of the layers of history in Istanbul but have not begun to appreciate the culture and the diversity of Turkey. That will have to be another visit. For now, all we can say to Istanbul is, “Excuse me, hello, thank you, bye-bye.”