More posts related to travels in Turkey await. However, I'm well and truly home again and gradually getting less and less jet laggy which means occasionally blogging about the present. Every day since getting home, like many of the days we were still in Turkey, Ken and I look at each other and smile. What an amazing summer! What a blessed life! Look what we share. And then I just bask in the goodness. Without qualifying. Without noting all what is yet unfinished or still unsatisfying about life. This – not looking over my shoulder, not countering good with bad – is new for me.
You see, I'm a recovering scarcity junky. I'm the person who has spent a good deal of life worrying there just isn't time, love, money, or goodness enough; and that I'm just not smart, responsible, hardworking, or talented enough. Good things may come my way, but to imagine that they'd keep coming means tempting fate. Better to modulate gratitude. After all, nothing good can last.
Well, I've had enough of that. As I recover, I celebrate and bear witness to all the abundance that surrounds me. I embrace possibility and consciously ignore the voices that whisper of limits, advise caution (read fear) and smugly hope that I'm not, once again, setting myself up for disappointment.
Why make the transition? Because limiting joy and the scarcity approach are downright draining. Perhaps these practices make life safe, but I'm after so much more than safe. I want joy. I want freedom. I want creativity and adventure and connection.
How am I making the transition? Intentionally. With the help of a very skilled counselor. Reading joy-filled blogs like Ordinary Courage by Brene Brown. (Watch her Ted Talk and you'll understand the draw.)
More ways I'm making the transition: by listening to my own heart and trusting my intuition. By being a bit vulnerable right here, trusting that as I write my posts, my story may resonate with yours and be of some encouragement. And by believing the words of Shel Silverstein that appear on this blog masthead; Anything Can Happen. For you. For me.
Summer was fantastic. I can hardly wait to see what comes with autumn.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Farewell with music & bubbles
Betul and Ali hosted us at a farewell reception just before our departure. We ate dinner at the Indian (yes, Indian) restaurant right next door to their gallery. After a lovely meal eaten facing the Hagia Sophia in the changing light of evening, we climbed down four flights of stairs, crossed a narrow street and climbed up three flights. In the gallery where we'd eaten an Iftar feast shortly after our arrival we now nibbled treats and sipped tea.
Our evening was a mix of thankfulness for the experiences gained and the friendships shared and sadness to leave this magical place and kind people to return to normal life. Seeing us off with the Şengüler family were my friend Dervish Erol, the food critic and cooking teacher (whose name I don't remember) and Serkan Çağrı, the most famous clarinetist in Turkey who some students met in the music class.
Here is a clip of Serkan playing for us:
Speeches were made and gifts given. Dervish Erol sent us off with the plastic baggies containing the makings for dervish tea. Ali gave each person in our group a lovely Turkish tile. Suzanne thanked our hosts for making our visit so memorable, letting them know how deeply they had touched our hearts.
Quietly, I gave the family a box of German chocolates that Ken brought from his trip. I also gave Emre and Zayneb each a small bottle of bubbles. I was very good and let them do all, well most, of the blowing.
Emre was asleep when we first arrived, so Zayneb, Suzanne and I played on our own. When Emre woke from his nap, he made up for lost time, blowing bubbles and chasing his sister around the room. I'm happy to have a picture of Betul with both of her darlings.
The evening, like the bubbles, shimmered and danced in loveliness. And then ended. But the memory still floats in my heart.
Our evening was a mix of thankfulness for the experiences gained and the friendships shared and sadness to leave this magical place and kind people to return to normal life. Seeing us off with the Şengüler family were my friend Dervish Erol, the food critic and cooking teacher (whose name I don't remember) and Serkan Çağrı, the most famous clarinetist in Turkey who some students met in the music class.
Here is a clip of Serkan playing for us:
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Jumping back a few days
Time for one more post from Istanbul. I still have pictures to post of the trip, so even when I'm home again I plan on working through my digital shoebox of photos so that more end up in this scrapbook.
Using local transport means taking a Turkish Taksi (taxi) at some point. Last week we all took the plunge. Oh, how I wish I'd taken some video footage of our ride to see the Chora Museum!! Our driver assured us of his 20 years of experience on the streets of Istanbul, never mind that he took us to the Commodore (or some such name) Hotel first. Small error. Eventually our group of four joined other small groups dropped by their drivers at, or near, the entrance. Even with a stop at the wrong place, Ken, Ashlee, Hew and I were not the last ones there. Once everyone arrived, touring the Byzantine church meant looking up almost continually. While the mosaics were painted over when the building was used for a mosque, many have been beautifully restored.
Using local transport means taking a Turkish Taksi (taxi) at some point. Last week we all took the plunge. Oh, how I wish I'd taken some video footage of our ride to see the Chora Museum!! Our driver assured us of his 20 years of experience on the streets of Istanbul, never mind that he took us to the Commodore (or some such name) Hotel first. Small error. Eventually our group of four joined other small groups dropped by their drivers at, or near, the entrance. Even with a stop at the wrong place, Ken, Ashlee, Hew and I were not the last ones there. Once everyone arrived, touring the Byzantine church meant looking up almost continually. While the mosaics were painted over when the building was used for a mosque, many have been beautifully restored.
Farewell Redux
I awoke at 7:50 this morning and closed my suitcase after breakfast. By 9:00 nearly all of our group had seats in one of two vans. I took pictures and tried to video as we drove to the airport. We cleared security, got boarding passes, paid for or shuffled overweight bags, waited to board. Our flight was canceled.
Good thing our apartments were booked for an entire month. Hakan returned with a van to collect us. Ken, who has a flight for early tomorrow morning, was glad to see me. The apartment manager is hosting us for supper on the terrace. We bid this city farewell one more time and hope to be successful on another flight tomorrow at 10:00 am.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Whirling Worship
Last night I saw my third dervish ceremony, or sema. Of the three I've seen this was the most moving and most authentic. My limited knowledge of Sufi tradition disqualifies me as any sort of expert; the evening simply felt more real. My small group joined a small collection of visitors allowed to observe the worship service of a vibrant congregation.
We came in after the 9 PM prayers to hear the worshipers sing to traditional music. They had the words and musical score projected for the group to see! Eventually the group of seven dervishes entered with their two masters. They spun to the strains of the congregation who moved through songs and enthusiastic chants in praise of Allah and the love of Allah. We were not allowed to video or photograph but I found a clip that has some similarities to what we saw.
I enjoyed the first sema for several reasons, most especially because the first group is the only one in Turkey to include women. According to our friend Hakan, the master of this group believes that before God there is no difference between men and women. Three or four years ago this master gave several women permission to practice spinning. After three months he would determine if any were capable. They were. This is that group in an outdoor setting.
The conical hat worn by the dances represents a tomb stone, signifying the death of their ego. Their black cloak represents the earth and earthly life which they drop before they begin to spin. Their white clothes (and for the women, colorful dress) represent either their second or spiritual life or the shroud to bury the ego. The dervishes begin with their arms crossed high on the chest, hands resting on the shoulders, head tipped slightly to the right. This posture represents the first letter in Allah: the Alif (or Elif). As they start to spin their arms lower, still crossed over the chest to resemble the letter/word Hu, that represents a number of things including all the names of God. They continue to move their arms so that the right hand reaches to God allowing divine energy to enter the heart. This energy is so powerful they must let it pass through them to humanity through the down-turned left hand. They spin in an ecstatic state of love for God. I find several aspects of Sufi worship very appealing.
We came in after the 9 PM prayers to hear the worshipers sing to traditional music. They had the words and musical score projected for the group to see! Eventually the group of seven dervishes entered with their two masters. They spun to the strains of the congregation who moved through songs and enthusiastic chants in praise of Allah and the love of Allah. We were not allowed to video or photograph but I found a clip that has some similarities to what we saw.
I enjoyed the first sema for several reasons, most especially because the first group is the only one in Turkey to include women. According to our friend Hakan, the master of this group believes that before God there is no difference between men and women. Three or four years ago this master gave several women permission to practice spinning. After three months he would determine if any were capable. They were. This is that group in an outdoor setting.
The conical hat worn by the dances represents a tomb stone, signifying the death of their ego. Their black cloak represents the earth and earthly life which they drop before they begin to spin. Their white clothes (and for the women, colorful dress) represent either their second or spiritual life or the shroud to bury the ego. The dervishes begin with their arms crossed high on the chest, hands resting on the shoulders, head tipped slightly to the right. This posture represents the first letter in Allah: the Alif (or Elif). As they start to spin their arms lower, still crossed over the chest to resemble the letter/word Hu, that represents a number of things including all the names of God. They continue to move their arms so that the right hand reaches to God allowing divine energy to enter the heart. This energy is so powerful they must let it pass through them to humanity through the down-turned left hand. They spin in an ecstatic state of love for God. I find several aspects of Sufi worship very appealing.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Ankara
Leaving Istanbul gave all of us a different perspective on Turkey. Seeing sights in Konya and parts of Cappadocia added to our tourist credibility. But I think visiting Ankara gave me a clearer sense of modern Turkey and the scope of reforms introduced by the father of the Turkish Republic: Mustafa Kamel Ataturk.
Our road trip took us through more countryside. Along with cultivated fields, I saw volcanic mountains responsible for the ash that gives Cappadocia its curious rock formations. After lunch at an interesting truck stop we also drove along the shore of a large salt lake.
Ankara was once a small village. But Ataturk chose it as the capital for modern Turkey and the village quickly became a city to accommodate the new government. The monument built to honor Ataturk sits on high ground overlooking the city that resulted from his decision.
I witnessed the changing of the guards and experimented with something new: a video clip. Hoping this works. Watch their distinctive gait.
A capital city requires more than a few pictures. Before our flight back to Istanbul, we stopped for one more museum (yawn) and a chance to hike up the ancient Ankara Citadel. Chelsey joined me on the walk and we were happy when Carlos and Matt caught up with us.
Our road trip took us through more countryside. Along with cultivated fields, I saw volcanic mountains responsible for the ash that gives Cappadocia its curious rock formations. After lunch at an interesting truck stop we also drove along the shore of a large salt lake.
Ankara was once a small village. But Ataturk chose it as the capital for modern Turkey and the village quickly became a city to accommodate the new government. The monument built to honor Ataturk sits on high ground overlooking the city that resulted from his decision.
I witnessed the changing of the guards and experimented with something new: a video clip. Hoping this works. Watch their distinctive gait.
Winding Down and Catching Up
Just a few more days in Istanbul and then our group heads back to Southern California. Each day continues to be full so I'm way behind on posting pictures. The students blog more faithfully: that's part of their assignment.
Our Cappadocia visit included a tour of chapels and churches built by early Christians in the 10th through 12th centuries. A few of these photos are taken in very low light and, I confess, covertly because any video or photography was prohibited inside.
Before leaving Cappadocia I made another special purchase: a small silver cross for Ken. We're celebrating our Silver Anniversary in an amazing place and it seemed appropriate to purchase a cross in Cappadocia. Because I am a reticent shopper, I was the only one dropped off in Urgup on our last afternoon there. Along with finding a silver shop I scouted the streets around the town center and then walked back to our hotel.
Monday morning we checked out, boarded our bus, and bid farewell to Cappadocia provence. Our final tour destination: Ankara, the capital of Turkey.
Our Cappadocia visit included a tour of chapels and churches built by early Christians in the 10th through 12th centuries. A few of these photos are taken in very low light and, I confess, covertly because any video or photography was prohibited inside.
Before leaving Cappadocia I made another special purchase: a small silver cross for Ken. We're celebrating our Silver Anniversary in an amazing place and it seemed appropriate to purchase a cross in Cappadocia. Because I am a reticent shopper, I was the only one dropped off in Urgup on our last afternoon there. Along with finding a silver shop I scouted the streets around the town center and then walked back to our hotel.
Monday morning we checked out, boarded our bus, and bid farewell to Cappadocia provence. Our final tour destination: Ankara, the capital of Turkey.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Below and Above ground in Cappadocia
The underground village or city is one of Cappadocia's claims to fame. So we went to see it. I appreciate the ingenuity involved in the maze of rooms and sloping-watch-your-head-double-over-and-crouch-as-you-walk tunnels. But in the end it felt like an exercise in being a colony of mole rats. And it was a bit stressful as curious students darted down side paths away from the group. On occasion I feel like part of my role is herding cats.
The real highlight of the day was visiting the home of Arife, a small woman who welcomed our group into her house in the rock. Once again I realize just how much I enjoy meeting vibrant people rather then poking round in long-deserted ruins.
Before leaving, many of the group purchased hand-made slippers, necklaces or baggy pants made my Arife and her daughters. This is one shopping opportunity that I'm sad I let pass. As ever, I'm thankful for my picture mementos.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
On to Cappadocia
Leaving Konya we continued our journey heading for Cappadocia. On the way we pulled off the main road to explore an ancient camel stop known as a Karavansaray. Caravan drivers would stop to rest here in summer and winter, allowing their camels to shelter and water, protected from the wind and snow of the plateau. These fortress-like stone structures once dotted the main travel route every 30 or 35 kilometers, the distance, I'm guessing, an average caravan would cover in a day.
Once in Cappadocia province, the terrain changed and I had my first glimpse of "faerie chimneys", formations resulting from millennia of erosion of packed volcanic ash.
After a long day driving and touring it felt wonderful to take a dip in the pool of our five-star hotel.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Remembering Konya
This is the view from the terrace when staying at the Balikcilar hotel in Konya.
Before boarding our bus to leave this morning, I decided to make my first memorable Turkish acquisition: a small silver pendant spelling out the Sufi word for all the names of God. I don't read arabic, but I'm told this name is pronounced Hu. The rough equivalent in Christian traditions would be I Am. To know more about the meaning of Hu read here.
As Konya is the burial place of the Sufi mystic and poet Rumi, this seemed like just the right treasure to carry away.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Road Trip!
Our road trip began with a variety of transportation modes. We walked to the metro station in Sultanahmet and road the train across the Golden Horn where we caught the ferry at Karakoy going to Hydrapasha. There we met our tour guide, Tosin and boarded the night train to Ankora. The gentle swaying of the train rocked me to sleep in my cozy sleeping berth.
I awoke far from the cosmopolitan coastal Istanbul. Once a sleepy village, the founder of modern Turkey chose Ankora as the site of the new capital city. To accommodate his new government he had the city built quickly. Today it suffers a severe case of urban sprawl with apartment buildings standing in ranks, somewhat reminiscent of the former Soviet block.
At the Ankora station we climbed aboard our private tour bus and began driving almost due south to Konya, once called Iconia. The Anatolian Plateau resembled southern California with its rolling hills and fields of gold. Occasional villages dotted the scene. We stopped for a tasty buffet breakfast at a fancy rest stop and drove on. Eventually we passed through landscape that reminded me of the San Joaquin Valley and finally arrived in Konya; once known as Iconia.
Balikcilar Hotel stands facing Mevlana Mosque. We checked into the hotel and walked to the museum/mausoleum that stand next to the mosque. The Sufi founder, Mevlana, also called Rumi, is burried here. After a brief stop for lunch we continued on foot to several restored Madrasas, former Islamic schools, that now serve as museums; one for Seljuk tile the other for stone carving. Still ready for more, I went with the die-hards to see the Seljuk Aladdin Mosque. Built in the early 13th century, the building style was distinctly different from those in Istanbul. The original wooden dome has been replaced with plaster, but it is much smaller than massive domes of the later Ottoman period.
Whew. So much to see and process and all amazing. After unwinding a bit in the room, I joined the group on the roof terrace for supper. We ate our meal as we watched the sky turn pink and shades of dusky purple. The muezzin called the faithful to prayer as the sun set.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Saturday Cruise on the Bosphorus
Out for more adventure! Leaving our apartment we bought jetons (tokens) to take the metro to Eminonu. Unfortunately, the metro was very crowded and in the crush, someone picked Paul Mallery's pocket. Sigh. Never a good feeling, being robbed.
We pressed on and still had a lovely time viewing both the European and Asian sides of Istanbul. We sailed under both bridges. Various building styles graced the shore and I kept my camera at the ready. The variety in our sailing companions was just as interesting. The captain turned the boat around after we sailed under the Second Bridge and we returned to the harbor.
I admit it would be nice to know what many of these buildings are. Note to self, start identifying what's in each picture if possible.
Update: The Mallerys tried to file a police report Saturday without success. Sunday the same. It may be that national pride is bruised with such a report. Ramadan ended on Monday, August 29th. August 30th is Turkish Independence Day. With overlapping holidays, many civil offices are either closed or very busy. No official police report has been filed yet.
We pressed on and still had a lovely time viewing both the European and Asian sides of Istanbul. We sailed under both bridges. Various building styles graced the shore and I kept my camera at the ready. The variety in our sailing companions was just as interesting. The captain turned the boat around after we sailed under the Second Bridge and we returned to the harbor.
I admit it would be nice to know what many of these buildings are. Note to self, start identifying what's in each picture if possible.
Update: The Mallerys tried to file a police report Saturday without success. Sunday the same. It may be that national pride is bruised with such a report. Ramadan ended on Monday, August 29th. August 30th is Turkish Independence Day. With overlapping holidays, many civil offices are either closed or very busy. No official police report has been filed yet.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
The Aya Sofia a.k.a. Hagia Sophia
I've been told that Istanbul exudes mystical energy. My afternoon walking through the incomparable Aya Sofia convinced me of it. As my 80+ pictures prove, I found the former Cathedral/former Mosque/now museum fascinating at every turn. Once the largest church in the world, the structure also boasted that of largest clear-standing dome. Google it for more juicy details.
Sadly, it is not clear how much longer this treasure will remain open for visitors. Time, earthquakes, structural issues and debates over who is responsible for maintenance, all contribute to the growing question of the safety and preservation of the site.
I feel especially thankful that I've lived to see it. The memory of unnumbered prayers, both Christian and Islamic, whispered under the golden dome and blessed me.
Sadly, it is not clear how much longer this treasure will remain open for visitors. Time, earthquakes, structural issues and debates over who is responsible for maintenance, all contribute to the growing question of the safety and preservation of the site.
I feel especially thankful that I've lived to see it. The memory of unnumbered prayers, both Christian and Islamic, whispered under the golden dome and blessed me.
Welcome to Istanbul, Ken
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| Greeting my man at Ataturk International Airport |
Along with excellent company, this means I have someone to show around the small sliver that I know of this wonderful city. We walk along and I'm the one leading the way, pointing out the next turn, naming the landmark. I also have the luxury of unlimited access to a good kisser and his laptop.
Thank you to Chelsea, Carlos, Ashlee and the generous Suzanne Mallery who each loaned a computer to me in turn so I could check e-mail, import pictures, blog and create slide shows on Picasa.
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| Celebrating our reunion with chai and pistachio baklava! |
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Ebru: Turkish Marbling and Meeting a Mystic
Along with exploring our district, traveling to Asia, and eating local cuisine, this experience has been enriched by amazing people. Ali and Betul invited our group of 18 to their gallery for Iftar dinner last week. We met their children Emre and Zaneb and Ali's brother Nurdawon.
This week small groups joined Betul in her studio for classes in ebru: paper marbling. Along with the delight of creating in a stress-free fashion, we met Mr. Erol Dervish. He welcomed us with dervish tea, interpreted the meaning of some of our work, and sent us off with more dervish tea when our afternoon class ended. I was especially moved by his interpretation of the piece I'm holding in the picture above. In fact, he moved me to tears.
As a Sufi, Mr. Erol practices a mystic tradition. He said that he knew the meaning of my picture because I created from the heart, not the head. This is what he told me through a translator:
Blue is for the ocean. This (my design of flowers) represents a family. The family have great joy with and for each other. They are separated now but the picture shows that they will share great joy when they are all reunited.
Without any conversation before hand, he spoke my heart. Having a stranger perceive my life so clearly was a bit unnerving but he was gentle and unassuming. As I cried on Suzanne's shoulder, he add, "She has a sensitive heart". Okay, that didn't take any mystical insight, but the main part did.
With my sweet girl at home and soon going abroad to school, my darling boy at boarding school for this term, and my man still en route to meet me here, Mr. Dervish hit home with his analysis. Oh, yes, there will be great joy.
I believe the afternoon was a huge success. Our group left Les Arts Turc feeling like we were a bit more immersed in the local culture and as if were were capable ebru artists.
Friday, August 26, 2011
What the Students say
As part of their experience, the students in the group are also keeping a blog of our Turkish travels. Often they have pictures that I don't; for example last night with the whirling dervish dancers. For other perspectives on our Turkish travels, visit Going Global.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Sunday stroll, lunch and the Archeological Museum
Just walking through our neighborhood prompts me to pull out the camera. Life is colorful and interesting, a visually refreshing change from the homogenous sites of the Inland Empire.
Sunday we lunched at the Montana Cafe where I first noticed the sign featuring the set Iftar menu. A great idea for anyone fasting who would like to eat as soon as the call to prayer sounds at sunset; no waiting for an order to be filled.
The waiter at Montana was just a bit too edgy, asking Paul Mallory how long the group will stay, offering a special discount if all 18 of us eat there again, and showing special interest in a couple of the women in our group.
At lunch I faced another responsibility as chaperon; checking the cash envelopes for the students. We're on our own for breakfast and occasionally lunch or supper, so the trip was planned with this in mind. Going out and buying bread, fruit and cheese makes for interesting interactions. Along with food, the account covers water. Very nice. But accounting is not so nice in my books. I spent an unhappy year in charge of petty cash when we lived in Sudan, reminded every day of my capacity to fail. Thankfully, so much of this experience is positive, that this prickly chore doesn't eclipse the joy of the rest of the adventure.
After lunch we went to the Archeological Museum. I confess that my experience on a dig in Jordan last year, blunted my enthusiasm for this venture. If you missed that blog, here it is. Satiation with all things archeological and low lighting account for the few pictures featuring museum exhibits.
Sunday we lunched at the Montana Cafe where I first noticed the sign featuring the set Iftar menu. A great idea for anyone fasting who would like to eat as soon as the call to prayer sounds at sunset; no waiting for an order to be filled.
The waiter at Montana was just a bit too edgy, asking Paul Mallory how long the group will stay, offering a special discount if all 18 of us eat there again, and showing special interest in a couple of the women in our group.
At lunch I faced another responsibility as chaperon; checking the cash envelopes for the students. We're on our own for breakfast and occasionally lunch or supper, so the trip was planned with this in mind. Going out and buying bread, fruit and cheese makes for interesting interactions. Along with food, the account covers water. Very nice. But accounting is not so nice in my books. I spent an unhappy year in charge of petty cash when we lived in Sudan, reminded every day of my capacity to fail. Thankfully, so much of this experience is positive, that this prickly chore doesn't eclipse the joy of the rest of the adventure.
After lunch we went to the Archeological Museum. I confess that my experience on a dig in Jordan last year, blunted my enthusiasm for this venture. If you missed that blog, here it is. Satiation with all things archeological and low lighting account for the few pictures featuring museum exhibits.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The Galata Tower and Taksim District
Walking. And more walking. I am persuaded that a well-designed city provides a variety of safe, clean, affordable public transport and ample opportunity to walk. After returning from the jaunt across the Bosphorus, I joined a group of students who wanted to climb the Gelata Tower.
We hoped to find the Funicular, the second oldest underground train in the world, to take us up the hill, but were not successful. Walking meant seeing more of the shops along the way. When we reached the tower, the line of people waiting to climb the inside staircase was so long that we altered our plan and continued on to the business/commercial district. Crowds of people walking, a steady breeze, a red street trolley, and Sephora; what's not to like?
After our long ramble we caught the metro back across the Golden Horn. I had time to shower, dress, and leave my small apartment refreshed and ready for another splendid meal.
We hoped to find the Funicular, the second oldest underground train in the world, to take us up the hill, but were not successful. Walking meant seeing more of the shops along the way. When we reached the tower, the line of people waiting to climb the inside staircase was so long that we altered our plan and continued on to the business/commercial district. Crowds of people walking, a steady breeze, a red street trolley, and Sephora; what's not to like?
After our long ramble we caught the metro back across the Golden Horn. I had time to shower, dress, and leave my small apartment refreshed and ready for another splendid meal.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Onward to Asia!
Saturday was a free day for the group. However, anyone wishing to could join the Mallery family on a jaunt to the Asian side of the Bosphorus. I definitely wished to. This also meant adding another form of transport to my list of options. For the same price as a metro ride, we boarded the ferry at the Karakoy ferry and were off to the Kadikoy Pier on the next continent.
Lunch was another gastronomic delight of a meal: I had the BEST stuffed grape leaves of my life and devoured a plate of potato dumplings with thick yogurt. Yum! I am beginning to think this is an eating holiday.
After lunch I was reminded why I'm here: to chaperon. But ever vigilant as I am, a student got away from the group and managed to stay lost. The main group headed to the ferry while two students retraced our steps to the cafe where we lost her. No luck. We waited for an hour at the ferry, watching for her. Finally, knowing she could find her way back and may have already taken the ferry ahead of us, we returned to Old Istanbul. I reminded myself that special protection often accompanies the foolhardy.
A positive outlook and knowing we had done what we could kept us going. What to do if you're lost or separated from the group was part of the next general group meeting. The student did find her way back and her roommate found her asleep in bed after our late evening meal Saturday night.
Lunch was another gastronomic delight of a meal: I had the BEST stuffed grape leaves of my life and devoured a plate of potato dumplings with thick yogurt. Yum! I am beginning to think this is an eating holiday.
After lunch I was reminded why I'm here: to chaperon. But ever vigilant as I am, a student got away from the group and managed to stay lost. The main group headed to the ferry while two students retraced our steps to the cafe where we lost her. No luck. We waited for an hour at the ferry, watching for her. Finally, knowing she could find her way back and may have already taken the ferry ahead of us, we returned to Old Istanbul. I reminded myself that special protection often accompanies the foolhardy.
A positive outlook and knowing we had done what we could kept us going. What to do if you're lost or separated from the group was part of the next general group meeting. The student did find her way back and her roommate found her asleep in bed after our late evening meal Saturday night.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Visiting Sultan Ahmet Mosque and other adventures
Day three or so it was time to get in-country cell phones for the group. As a chaperon, I was on the short list for this privilege. I have no idea why, but I left my camera in the room that morning. Oh, well.
Our small group lined up on the Sultan Ahmet metro platform. A train pulled up and passengers debarked. I heard the tone announcing the doors were about to close, so I stepped into the car. The doors swooshed together behind me. Looking over my shoulder I realized the rest of the group had not been quite as nimble.
Different problem-solving scenarios ran through my head. But, happily, I'd heard the name of the stop we were to take. I recognized the name when it was announced and stepped off. Rather than depart the platform, I stood by in case I'd need to board another train. But in less then a minute another train pulled in and the rest of my group smiled from inside. Whew.
Getting, registering and signing for cell phones took some time. Eventually that was managed; thank you Turkcell. We left with our phones and stepped across the street to the original purveyors of Turkish Delight: Haci Bekir, est. 1777. We did not leave the shop empty handed.
The afternoon brought another opportunity to get separated. We set off for Sultan Ahmet Mosque. I brought up the rear of the group and eventually asked, "Who are we following?" Our fearless leader, Suzanne, had stopped to buy water and the group hadn't noticed. But two students, who had visited the day before, lead on toward the mosque and we were soon inside the garden wall. We posed for pictures in the side court. Then our group was separated again with some of us moving to the visitor entrance and others not noticing.
Eventually we all found our way to the tourist entrance. Many visitors crowded the special area behind the men's section to gaze at the incredible designs on the domes and see the grand windows. We found Suzanne and her family inside.
Along with the delights of Istanbul, I've signed on as a responsible adult for a group of 13 college students. Mostly this is a great arrangement, but occasionally things happen. And happen so quickly I don't have time to be a voice of reason. Take for example the Vespa ride. A student spotted a shiny, new Vespa and asked the owner if she might ride it. She thought he'd say no. She thought wrong. With little pause for reflection, she donned the helmet and sat astride the machine -- by herself. She'd never driven one, a fact soon proven. Her short ride ended with the Vespa tipped over the curb. She was fine. The Vespa received its first scratch.
I was SO relieved that she was in one piece and bloodless, mostly. Also a good thing: the owner was gracious and did not flip out.
Our small group lined up on the Sultan Ahmet metro platform. A train pulled up and passengers debarked. I heard the tone announcing the doors were about to close, so I stepped into the car. The doors swooshed together behind me. Looking over my shoulder I realized the rest of the group had not been quite as nimble.
Different problem-solving scenarios ran through my head. But, happily, I'd heard the name of the stop we were to take. I recognized the name when it was announced and stepped off. Rather than depart the platform, I stood by in case I'd need to board another train. But in less then a minute another train pulled in and the rest of my group smiled from inside. Whew.
Getting, registering and signing for cell phones took some time. Eventually that was managed; thank you Turkcell. We left with our phones and stepped across the street to the original purveyors of Turkish Delight: Haci Bekir, est. 1777. We did not leave the shop empty handed.
The afternoon brought another opportunity to get separated. We set off for Sultan Ahmet Mosque. I brought up the rear of the group and eventually asked, "Who are we following?" Our fearless leader, Suzanne, had stopped to buy water and the group hadn't noticed. But two students, who had visited the day before, lead on toward the mosque and we were soon inside the garden wall. We posed for pictures in the side court. Then our group was separated again with some of us moving to the visitor entrance and others not noticing.
Eventually we all found our way to the tourist entrance. Many visitors crowded the special area behind the men's section to gaze at the incredible designs on the domes and see the grand windows. We found Suzanne and her family inside.
Along with the delights of Istanbul, I've signed on as a responsible adult for a group of 13 college students. Mostly this is a great arrangement, but occasionally things happen. And happen so quickly I don't have time to be a voice of reason. Take for example the Vespa ride. A student spotted a shiny, new Vespa and asked the owner if she might ride it. She thought he'd say no. She thought wrong. With little pause for reflection, she donned the helmet and sat astride the machine -- by herself. She'd never driven one, a fact soon proven. Her short ride ended with the Vespa tipped over the curb. She was fine. The Vespa received its first scratch.
I was SO relieved that she was in one piece and bloodless, mostly. Also a good thing: the owner was gracious and did not flip out.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Day Two continued.
After a lovely morning on the terrace, the group hit the street. We walked through our neighborhood toward Sultan Ahmet square and the metro station there. Suzanne showed us how to purchase tokens: Jeton. New possibilities for freedom opened.
We traveled on the clean, cool train to Eminonu station near the New Mosque which faces the harbor at the confluence of the Golden Horn and the Bosphorus. See the black line on the map.
The camera gave me some grief and made pictures appear blue. Not sure yet why. I tried another setting. Still working on the learning curve with the new Olympus.
We ate our first so-so meal and then went on to explore the Spice Bazaar. I grew weary, so left my group and found my way back to the apartment on my own. I love this city!
We traveled on the clean, cool train to Eminonu station near the New Mosque which faces the harbor at the confluence of the Golden Horn and the Bosphorus. See the black line on the map.
The camera gave me some grief and made pictures appear blue. Not sure yet why. I tried another setting. Still working on the learning curve with the new Olympus.
We ate our first so-so meal and then went on to explore the Spice Bazaar. I grew weary, so left my group and found my way back to the apartment on my own. I love this city!
Day Two; Part One
After a brief digression, I'll move forward again.
After a solid night's sleep following a Very Long Day, imagine my delight when I climbed the tightly winding staircase to emerge on the roof of our apartment building. The shaded terrace is a wonderful place to eat breakfast, gaze on the sea and the city, and catch a tune from Xander, the violinist in the group.
After a solid night's sleep following a Very Long Day, imagine my delight when I climbed the tightly winding staircase to emerge on the roof of our apartment building. The shaded terrace is a wonderful place to eat breakfast, gaze on the sea and the city, and catch a tune from Xander, the violinist in the group.
Friday, August 19, 2011
When I say good-bye..
Saying good-bye to my darlings was tough. Having pictures helps a bit. Being the one to head off for adventure is also a good idea.
A Very Long Day
Here are pictures from our first full day in Istanbul. As usual, I go just a bit crazy with the camera, taking pictures of almost everything.
Istanbul is one more reason that timeworn, age-enhanced places and things appeal to me.
Staying awake was a challenge, but the wonder of the city helped. When I did fall into bed, I slept soundlessly, without dreaming.
Istanbul is one more reason that timeworn, age-enhanced places and things appeal to me.
Staying awake was a challenge, but the wonder of the city helped. When I did fall into bed, I slept soundlessly, without dreaming.
Settling In
I have a crush on Istanbul. I may just cut all ties and figure out how to become a resident. By turns the city delights and surprises, reminding me why I find travel intoxicating.
After a very long day, post with pictures to follow, my body clock has adjusted. The view of the sun on the sea from our roof-top terrace, the toothsome foods served outside and the narrow cobblestone streets convince me that I belong here.
Internet service is sketchy and I face the added challenge of borrowing a labtop to check email, import photos, and now to blog, until Ken arrives. But these inconveniences are small in comparison to the magic of Istanbul.
After a very long day, post with pictures to follow, my body clock has adjusted. The view of the sun on the sea from our roof-top terrace, the toothsome foods served outside and the narrow cobblestone streets convince me that I belong here.
Internet service is sketchy and I face the added challenge of borrowing a labtop to check email, import photos, and now to blog, until Ken arrives. But these inconveniences are small in comparison to the magic of Istanbul.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Do you ever think of yourself, of your life, in a set way? I know I do. Words like frugal, safe, financially cautious, and honestly, fearful characterize much of my inner mantra about decisions involving major change.
So imagine the mental reshuffling I'm doing as our family launches into this fall. I'm off to Istanbul, Turkey tomorrow! I'm not earning an income, but my expenses are covered as a chaperon. Yay for breaking even! The part that makes me stop short: I'll be on my own for two weeks. Sure, there's the professor organizing the trip and her family as well as the thirteen students. But I'm leaving my peeps behind. Who will I be without them? This blog helps track that question.
Days after I depart my favorite son takes off for a semester at a cool Quaker boarding academy.
After that, my true love uses his research funding to begin his journey to join me, stopping in Germany on the way. After two weeks apart, we reunite just in time for our anniversary.
While we're away, my favorite girl takes off for a term in Spain. Last night she told a friend on the phone, "My mom leaves for Istanbul, Turkey soon so I'll have to call you back later. I want to read to her out loud." Now I am hooked on the book she's given me for the flight.
So much excitement. Change. Unknown. And so much bittersweet as I bid my handful of darlings farewell and they set off on their own adventures.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Smile.
So imagine the mental reshuffling I'm doing as our family launches into this fall. I'm off to Istanbul, Turkey tomorrow! I'm not earning an income, but my expenses are covered as a chaperon. Yay for breaking even! The part that makes me stop short: I'll be on my own for two weeks. Sure, there's the professor organizing the trip and her family as well as the thirteen students. But I'm leaving my peeps behind. Who will I be without them? This blog helps track that question.
Days after I depart my favorite son takes off for a semester at a cool Quaker boarding academy.
After that, my true love uses his research funding to begin his journey to join me, stopping in Germany on the way. After two weeks apart, we reunite just in time for our anniversary.
While we're away, my favorite girl takes off for a term in Spain. Last night she told a friend on the phone, "My mom leaves for Istanbul, Turkey soon so I'll have to call you back later. I want to read to her out loud." Now I am hooked on the book she's given me for the flight.
So much excitement. Change. Unknown. And so much bittersweet as I bid my handful of darlings farewell and they set off on their own adventures.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Smile.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
The next half
The patina of age and the comfort of well-worn really suit me. But one of my favorite brands is New. True. So here's a new blog from me.
You may have joined me last summer as the fam and I posted pictures and reports about our Jordan adventure. Yay! If you enjoyed that read, consider following this adventure: the next half of my life.
Several "Big Day" flags flutter in the future:
1) September 1st Ken and I celebrate twenty-five years together. The anniversary also means that more of my life has been with him than without him; and am I ever thankful.
2) Next spring holds another banner. The beginning of the bigger half of my life. Whoop! Whoop! Not ready for the senior discount at Goodwill, but getting closer.
This blog is to track what comes as I ramp up for these events and move into life beyond. Thanks for sharing the trip with me.
You may have joined me last summer as the fam and I posted pictures and reports about our Jordan adventure. Yay! If you enjoyed that read, consider following this adventure: the next half of my life.
Several "Big Day" flags flutter in the future:
1) September 1st Ken and I celebrate twenty-five years together. The anniversary also means that more of my life has been with him than without him; and am I ever thankful.
2) Next spring holds another banner. The beginning of the bigger half of my life. Whoop! Whoop! Not ready for the senior discount at Goodwill, but getting closer.
This blog is to track what comes as I ramp up for these events and move into life beyond. Thanks for sharing the trip with me.
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