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.
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