Leave the Path

Two days ago, about the time that I made my last post, the Emres developed a great plan for our last day together in Istanbul. It was thorough and complete, involving getting up at 8:00, leaving the house by 9:00, a boat, a tour guide, a stop at a hamam, meals, evening entertainment, time with Emre2’s family, and more. Fiona and I laughed when we heard it. The first snag was obvious: we haven’t gotten up before 10:00 on then entire vacation- small chance it would happen now. And we were right. It was noon before we were all up, fed, dressed, etc. We also met a couple of other snags: the tour guide friend couldn’t meet us that day, the weather was really cold and grey and wet, traffic was backed up, etc. We accidentally went shopping for a couple of hours. Then we had lunch at a famous meatball shop. It was 3:00 before we got around to actually doing anything on the plan.

Sultan Ahmet Koftecisi, where we had lunch, was a neat restaurant. It’s a couple streets away from the Blue Mosque, and so the view is great. The restaurant is several stories, and narrow. (I was joking about how such a little, crowded place must be a fire hazard. There is, however, a clearly marked fire exit from the top floor, so I guess I underestimated the owners.) From the window, we watched a car get towed that had been parked on a side-walk. The only annoyance was the Americans at the next table talking really loudly about things that they didn’t actually know anything about.The specialty is, of course, kofte (spicy Turkish meatballs.) I have, unfortunately, become sick of kofte, and definitely didn’t want any. The salads, which were meant as side dishes, had white beans and onions, as well as the normal tomato and lettuce mix, and they were fortunately very filling. Fiona and I each ordered a salad, and then a plate of kebap meat to share. It was a great meal.

We went strait to the Blue Mosque after lunch. I knew what to expect, but it was still impressively big. There were more little boys in prince costumes, this time. I explained to Fiona why they were dressed like that, and she wanted to grab them and help them escape. (Apparently I’m not the only one to find this custom odd.) While we were discussing this, one of two brothers wearing soft Ottoman-style slippers with their prince costumes slipped on the wet marble and hit his head on a step with a resounding “thwack” that echoed through the courtyard. He lost consciousness for a few seconds, and then started crying as his family rushed him off to the hospital. My head hurts just thinking about it. It was a terrifying scene, and all the more so because I realized that I don’t really know what to do about this kind of emergencies in Turkey. I hope he was okay. And that they didn’t make him get the operation on the same day; that’d make for a miserable week. Interestingly, the kid hit his head on the same step where the men had been fighting last time I visited the Blue Mosque. I think I’ll enter from the other direction next time.

Once we did get in, I was overwhelmed by the smell of wet feet. Shoes are not allowed in mosques (they’re entirely carpeted on the inside) and the persistent rain and long tours had made foul odors in the shoes of all the tourists. (Maybe this is the reason for the ritualistic foot-washing before Muslim prayers?) Despite the beauty of the place, I didn’t feel the same calm as last time and I couldn’t wait to get back out into fresh, foot-free air.

Next we visited the Hagia Sofia. I really really liked it last time, and looked forward to visiting again. I worried a little, though, that a different day, with different weather and different company might make for a different and inferior experience. It was different, but I still loved it. Emre2 had decided not to join us because of the entrance fee (it is a little steep.) I got in for free again, by showing that I have both a student card and a Turkish name. Fiona, Emre, and Hakan were interested and willing to go, and at least tolerant of my enthusiasm for the place.

There weren’t many people around, so we had the place almost to ourselves. We saw a fledgling pigeon being fed by a parent. I also noticed more fake windows painted by the Ottomans (I still don’t get why they did this. Lack of inspiration? Desire to paint things in perspective? Just felt their should have been more windows?) I also felt the same solidness, openness, and reflective atmosphere of the place. I think the second floor of the Hagia Sofia may be one of my new favorite places in the world. I like to think I’ll be there again someday.

In fact, I like most of Istanbul. I’m even glad I saw it in the rain. It was cold, and the foot smell was gross, but the weather changes the mood of the place. I feel like I know the city better now that I’ve seen it in a few different states. I’d like to be here once when it snows. I’ve heard that’s the best.

Continuing with the top tourist attractions theme, our next stop was the Kapali Carsi, or Grand Bazaar. Last time we ran through and snapped photos. This time I actually bought a couple of pairs of earrings and a couple of gifts. No one from the city actually shops here, and I think Emre2 was a little annoyed with us for wanting to come at all. The prices are greatly inflated, but we managed to talk down our purchases a little. We also took a look at some of the antique stores, which had awesome authentic pieces like sets of Ottoman armor.

We were scheduled to meet with Emre2’s family for dinner, and we were running late after the shopping. We walked quickly through the slippery streets outside of the bazaar, we passed through the Spice Bazaar down to the dock where we caught another ferry. This one rocked wildly in the white-capped waves, and the bad weather also made for a huge crowd. The Emres were so tired that the kind of melted into their seats. We saw no dolphins, and I was glad to step off on the other side.

We walked to the car in the cold rain. It was maybe a kilometer or less, but when we arrived we were all wet, cold, and miserable. We got caught in traffic crossing town, as well, but by some small miracle we were only a few moments late for dinner.

We ate with Emre2’s parents, both of his sisters, the eldest sister’s husband, and the younger sister’s two daughters and their nanny. The kids were great. Aged 10 and 4, they’re both black-eyed, clever little girls. The older one is studying English, and she was very patient when I spoke Turkish with her. (That part of the family owns the house where we stayed near Olympos, so we talked about the house and the animals in the yard.) The younger one is the baby of the family, and she knows it, and she is adorable.

Dinner was at a specialty Black Sea region restaurant. Emre2’s father is from that region, and he recognized a grammar mistake on part of the menu where they’d used an old Northern language. Without my notice, someone ordered up a huge spread of Black Sea specialties as “appetizers”. Two reassuringly familiar common ingredients were corn and green beans. There was corn bread served with something like fondue, and a hot green bean salad. There were also lots of little fish (anchovies?) served with rice or vegetables. It was wonderful. By the time my main course came, I was too full to eat it. We stayed at dinner a long time, and had a couple of cups of tea. It was very comfortable.

Part of the original plan had been to go out to a concert after dinner, and to stay on the Europe side with Emre2’s friend Umut. We drove over the bridge to Umut’s apartment, but after the long day and the big meal, no one could be bothered to go out. Umut’s apartment is really neat. It’s on the ground floor of an older apartment building on the European side of Istanbul. It’s small, but it has real marble in several key places that adds an air of luxury. It kind of reminded me of the NY artists’ apartments in _On the Road_. When we arrived, Umut had some friends over, and we sat with them for a while, but then Emre put on a DVD, and I fell asleep.

The next morning, Emre woke me up early to get on the road back to Ankara. I was tired and disoriented. We had to say good-bye to Emre2 and Fiona who, to their credit, got up to see us off, though I know it was very hard. I almost didn’t want to leave them. For two weeks we were comrades, traveling together, eating together. It was fun, and it felt like a natural return to the dynamic we had in France. I’m sad that it came to an end so quickly, and I sincerely hope that it doesn’t take another two years for all of us to meet again.

Emre and I found Hakan and got back on the road. It was raining again as we left Istanbul. We stopped at Burger King and ate Whoppers for breakfast (there wasn’t much choice) and Hakan bought some sort of “cotton candy” that looked unpleasantly like a hairball, but tasted like candy should. I took a long nap and tried to perk up a little, but it didn’t work.

Going back to Ankara marks the tail end of our stay in Turkey. We’re heading to the States on Sunday, and while I’m excited to see my family and my apartment and vegan food, I feel like it was only yesterday that we arrived. I’m not quite ready to go. Not only do we have to pack and do another 24-hour travel-a-thon, but there are people who I like here, and things that I still haven’t learned.

Yesterday we drove across Turkey, south to north. It took us about 13 hours all together. I thought that there’d be a big motorway all the way from Antalya to Istanbul (after all, Antalya is a big city) but there wasn’t. It was a long, windy trip through farm land.

In the morning we washed the sheets and tidied up (one of those responsibilities that comes along with a borrowed house.) We also ate a little breakfast and Emre2 went to pick up some other relatives who would be staying in the house just after us. They came, we left.

We saw a big tortoise crossing the road as we left the Olympos area. (You may have noticed that we saw many turtles here. They’re famous. There are sea turtles, as well, which come lay eggs on the shore, but we didn’t see any. Someone’s comment about sea turtles was that they’re quite strong and he’s seen children 6 or 7 years old sitting on their backs as they crawl back to the water. This may, in fact, explain the current scarcity of sea turtles, if people harass them when they’re on land. The trash on the beaches and development for tourism are, of course, big problems, too. And sea turtles are supposedly delicious, so in on beaches that have been inhabited for so long, I’m surprised that there are still turtles at all. The turtles are protected, today, though, with little cage things to go over the nests and signs about not being loud or shining lights at night on the beach.)

We’d been in the car a lot of this trip, so we settled back into a comfortable routine. The Emres took turns driving. Fiona alternated between sleeping and chatting. I took pictures and loudly admonished bad drivers, though of course they couldn’t hear me.

A note about Turkish roads: Often, there are three lanes. One lane on each side for each direction of travel, and then a center passing lane that is supposed to be open to one direction at a time, but is constantly abused. In theory, you drive in your lane, and then, when necessary, over-take other cars on certain areas where the line between your lane and the center becomes dotted. In fact, however, drivers often stay in the middle, and routinely pass when it’s the turn of the other direction. In addition, there are sometimes cars in both the outside and center lane when a new, fast car wants to pass, and, more often than not, that driver will simply go into the lane reserved for on-coming traffic. Sometimes there will also be a motorcyclist, no helmet, weaving between these cars and driving on the shoulder of the road. And often the vehicle being passed is an over-loaded truck or two, swaying in the wind and dropping tomatoes. It’s hard to capture the horror of watching this kind of driving in still photos. Fiona and I had several conversations similar to this: “What does he think he’s doing? Oh my god, he’s not going to pass here?!? Look, look, two of them are going now, in the other lane! There’s a car coming! They’re going to hit!” And then the driver would always bully his way in between the cars in the lane that he should have been in.

We did see the aftermath of one bad crash that seems to have happened in this way, though. We passed a car which had been smashed so that it looked like a Persian cat. The front grill was over the front axle, and the driver’s side was more damaged than the passenger’s. Once again, when we passed there were no injured people, and no ambulances, so I guess they’d already come and left. Or maybe some person trying to be helpful pulled the passengers from the car before the ambulance arrived. (Emre tells me this is common, as well.) It was scary, though, and we were very cautious drivers thereafter.

We did, however, have a little snag in our travels. There are many places where the roads, even big roads, are not good. We hit a pothole going about 70 mph, towards the center of a big road. With cars weaving back and forth, we didn’t see it until we were right on top of it. It made the car skip a little and surprised all of us. We took a look at the tires shortly afterwards, and there was a big bubble on one spot. We drove on it for a while, but the roads were still pretty dodgy, and I was increasingly paranoid about having a blow-out on such unpredictable roads.

We finally stopped and talked to an expert. He said “maybe” it would make it back to Istanbul. Given the Turkish standards for safety, we took that as a “no” and asked him to track down a new tire. Fiona and I waited at the truck-stop restaurant while the tire was delivered. Truck stops are truck stops, all over the world. Big, dirty guys came in and had big bowls of indiscriminate food and little cups of tea. The waiters were surprised and a little confused by the appearance of two Anglophone girls, but he was polite enough. The bathroom was deplorable, and black with mosquitoes, but other than it was okay. It took a couple hours to get the tire changed, but it was worth it to not worry as much about accidents.

We stopped once to look for ceramic gifts in the town of Kutahya, where the Ottoman sultans used to have their ceramics made. There were factories and outlet shops. Nothing amazing.

We also saw a cave. Emre noticed the signs from the road and remembered that he’d been there once and liked it. We stopped. Outside the entrance, there was a political rally for the most conservative nationalist party in the country (surprise!) and so the Emres were a little uncomfortable and we didn’t spend much time wandering around. The cave itself was interesting. It was a natural limestone cave, this time, with drip formations and an underground lake. I spent most of my time being annoyed by the poor management, though. Like most other “attractions” in Turkey, there was an entrance fee and then an entrance, but no guide. There were signs saying “Please don’t write on the walls or touch things.” There was a pathway of shiny, wet marble to guide the way, and speakers played a message in Turkish, occasionally, which may have been pre-recorded information. Groups of unsupervised children ran back and forth, though, and I saw 50-year-old ladies walk away from the designated walkway to rub their hands on the limestone formations. People smoked cigarettes as they walked, despite no-smoking signs.

Limestone formations stop growing and turn a dirty brown color when they’re touched with bare hands or exposed to smoke. It’s a sin to do bother them on any cave tour I’ve ever taken, and it really irked me that people in this cave didn’t seem to know or care. I think that having guides in caves is a necessity. Not only does it keep visitors from destroying delicate features, and give them interesting information, but it is also important for safety. Teenagers don’t stay where they’re supposed to be, and having people wander around in caves is dangerous. We saw groups of kids running through arches and columns, trying to find short-cuts from one part of the path to another. Even for people who heed the signs, if there’s a cave-in or an emergency, there’s no way for the people outside to know how many people to look for or where they’d be. It would raise the price of admission, though, and I guess people don’t really care that much.

With all these diversions, we didn’t get around to dinner until 10:30 or so, and then we didn’t make it to Istanbul until almost midnight (nearer to Istanbul, the roads are safer and wider, though, so it wasn’t a big problem to drive in the dark.)

We stayed with Emre2’s family. In the morning, his mother prepared us a fantastic breakfast spread, complete with home-made strawberry jam, and also French fries. When we finally left the apartment, we spent the entire day walking around, meeting up with old friends, and drinking tea. We crossed the Bosporus and saw a dolphin in the water (a very rare sight in such a busy shipping lane.) We also shopped half-heartedly, but didn’t get much.

We met up with Emre’s brother Hakan and Umut (he visited Emre2 in France) and two other friends, Arda and Giray, who both speak Chinese. The group of us had beers and dinner together, and then went our separate ways. Hakan’s staying with us tonight, and we’ll see some of the others tomorrow. It was relaxed and cool, and I felt pretty comfortable with Istanbul this time. It’s really a fantastic city.

(Emre may make a great pirate, but Emre2 is secretly Popeye.)

I’m very tired, but it doesn’t seem like we did much today.  We checked out of the hotel, and went to visit one of Ali’s sisters, this morning.  The sister is a very friendly older woman, who was keeping some kids of a relative (grandchildren?)  She was very nice, as was her husband, and they gave me a traditional wedding gift, which was unexpected and much appreciated.

The kids were really awesome, though.  They were 4 and 5, and originally very shy.  They had Legos, though, and I eventually coaxed them to play with me.  I made a “cambaz” (acrobat) house with a bus stop and a pool.  The little boy kept threatening to run it over with his bulldozer.  Kids are kids all over the world.

We had lunch by the Bosporus, again, and then went for a tea in the café of Mami’s university.  Then we set off to pick up Fiona.  Her plane was set to arrive at 6:10, so we left at 4:00ish to give ourselves time.  It took us 3 hours to cross town.  The traffic was at a constant standstill and it was hot and miserable.

Gypsies walked between the cars, selling flowers and ice-cream and bottled water.  Fiona’s plane was late, and it took her forever in customs, so she came out after us anyway.  Then it was another 2 or 3 hours back across town, so that’s where most of our day went.  Fiona is here now, with us at Mami’s apartment, and she’s sharing memories of France with the Emres.  It really doesn’t seem like two whole years have passed since we were together.  I’m going to go chat with them.

The last two days have been so busy that I’ve had no time to write. I’ve even begun to dread starting because there’s so much to say. Istanbul is awesome. It’s impressive and beautiful and special, but also a little wild and scary.

We’re staying in a hotel on the Asia side of the Bosporus. Each of the last two mornings, we’ve taken a light breakfast at the hotel, walked a block or so, gotten on a ferry, crossed the water, and spent most of the day in the old part of the city.

The ferry is quite comfy. There are hundreds, or maybe thousands of people who commute this way every day, and there are people selling newspapers and teas on the boat. The crossing coincides nicely with the time it takes to finish one little cup of tea: about 15 minutes. The view is good, too, of both ancient buildings and walls, and also of the modern wonder of container shipping, huge cranes and all. We’ve taken the ferry four times now, and I’m not bored of it yet.

Our first stop was the Hagia Sofia. I’ve read accounts from the middle ages of how mystical this place was, but I figured that after seeing NYC and Notre Dame and the Braves’ stadium, a big building wouldn’t be too striking. I was wrong. Even without its original decorations, the Hagia Sofia is breathtaking. Not only is it really big (it is enormous) it also has a special sort of anonymous peacefulness that I associate with Catholic cathedrals. One of my favorite parts was the “stairs” to the second floor. There are not steps, as such, but rather a winding incline of slippery cobblestones, twisting back on itself four times. It’s like a dungeon, but it leads up into the second floor, which is even better, lighter, and more holy than the first. Even with the tourists (Australians, Japanese, English, Iranian, Orthodox priests, school groups, etc) walking around, snapping photos, there is still a sort of heavy stillness about the place. It was almost as if all of the prayers that have been said here over thousands of years have left shadows of holiness in the air. No matter what you believe, places like this that have had such profound importance for so many people have a certain power.

Maybe I should explain a little about this church. It was build by the Byzantines in the 13^th (?) century. In the middle ages, many people believed that the design was so spectacular that it could not have been conceived of by a mortal, and must have been inspired by God himself. It was, therefore, a popular destination for Christian pilgrimages. The Ottomans, when they conquered Istanbul in 1453, they did not destroy the church. They too believed that it was divinely designed, and so they made it into a mosque. Most Muslims believe that there should be no images of people or animals in a mosque, and so they covered the Christian mosaics with plaster, which was then decorated with geometric patterns and Koranic verses. (With the founding of the Republic, the building became a museum, and the plaster is being removed, but it’s going slowly.) This place has, thus, heard the prayers of millions of Christians and Muslims. It holds tombs, concealed masterpieces, and graffiti by ancient visitors. It’s a wonder of stone-work and architecture, but, for me, it is the stories and the memory of previous visitors that really makes it what it is: a fantastic reliquary of religion in the western world.

Interestingly, there are no chairs in the Hagia Sofia today. I saw people standing or squatting in corners, lost in thought. I think a fantastic addition would be a room, with chairs and also with an open carpeted area, where people who feel the need to sit and reflect or pray are welcome. I feel like this wonderful place, which has seen conflicts, but also the peaceful faith of Christians and Muslims, might hold some special potential for cooperation and understanding. Maybe it wouldn’t work, but if it did, it would be a powerful image: Christians and Muslims, atheists and believers, all considering the past and peacefully hoping for what we all really want, peaceful and happy lives.

Our next stop was the Blue Mosque. This landmark is directly opposite the Hagia Sofia, and is still a functioning mosque today. It was built by the Ottomans, who saw the Hagia Sofia as a challenge, and wanted to make something bigger. The Blue Mosque is bigger, and is cleaner and less confused. The atmosphere is different, though.

This is the first mosque I have ever entered. As we made our way to the entrance, two men, both Turkish, one an employee of the mosque and one a tourist, started yelling at each other about some imagined insult. People restrained them and shushed them (which is exactly what they wanted. They were both just posturing and didn’t want to fight.) Anyway, though, it put me on edge before we went in. Interestingly, I wasn’t asked to cover my head (most of the tourists didn’t) but I did have to wrap a long cloth around my shorts (I think this is a formality.) Everyone takes their shoes off at the door, and the inside is a big, open, carpeted room. The lighting is good and people were relaxed. It was kind of like a big living-room. It was different than a church, but nice.

This little boy is having his “sunnet” or circumcisian ceramony. For one day, little boys are dressed up like princes and paraded around and given tons of sweets so that their memories of this event aren’t all bad. I think it’s a little weird, but this little prince was a big hit with the visitors to the mosque. Every tourist in the place had a photo taken with him.

We also visited the Byzantine “Underground Cistern”. It sounds really dull, but it was actually a very interesting thing. Built by the Romans to hold water for the city, it’s underground, filled with columns and a couple of mysterious statues. Today there is only a little water and a few fish, but apparently before the walkway was built in the 1970’s, all of the tours were done in a rowboat and there was more water to accommodate. The atmosphere was dank, but clean, old, but surreal. I could definitely imagine a murder mystery ending up here, or a Harry Potter novel. The only problem was the groups of yelling kids, whose voices echoed obnoxiously in the closed space. I’d love to be there alone some time. It’d be fantastically creepy.

For lunch, we stopped at the nearby Medusa café, themed after the upside-down Medusa head in the cistern. There were plastic fruits tied to the tree branches in the courtyard, which was odd, but the service was good, the bathroom was spotless, and there was a friendly cat wandering around. Nurten, Emre, and I got a selection of vegetarian mezzes (appetizers) and they were great. This one is called “Sigara Borek” which is occasionally translated as “Cigarette Pie.” Thankfully, it’s only relation to a cigarette is in the shape, and it’s filled with cheese, rather than sweets. These were unusually good, at this restaurant.

We also did a little site-seeing and a lot of walking. We ran through the famous Capali Carsi (Covered Bazaar) and then walked some city streets with good shopping. The red-and-gold banners with the lion are because Gryffindor won the house cup…No actually, Galatasarey won the Turkish soccer tournament recently and they happen to have the same colors and symbol.

We eventually got tired of walking in the heat and the dust, and took a cab. It felt like 120 F in that “taksi” and I start sweating just thinking about it. We also rode the 19^th century Ottoman “subway” which goes underground, up a hill, using only a counterweight. The tile work in the station is impressive, and the tram worked really well given that most of it is 150 years old and original.

In the evening, Emre, Nurten and I went to visit our friend Emre from France. (People here call him Mami, and I know he hated to be called Emre#2, so I’m going to try to remember to distinguish between them, that way.) Mami’s parents live in a newer section of the Asian side of town that looks much like Ankara. His mother is also named Nurten, and his father laughs very easily in a universally appealing way. They made a fantastic classic Turkish dinner for us, with meat and stuffed peppers and other little dishes. I drank raki with Mami (my Emre is still recovering from the dentist, so he had coke). I didn’t drink much, or quickly, though, because I know it is both strong and surprisingly late-acting. A couple of Mami’s other relatives came over near the end of the meal, and joined us. They seemed like nice people, but wanted to talk about politics and religion and it seemed a little heavy for a first meeting. I also had some difficulty with language, which is frustrating when I have something that I want to say well. It was great to see the Emre’s together again, though, and I’m sure we’ll have even more catching up to do when Fiona gets here tomorrow. I also think we’ll be staying a few nights with Mami’s parents, so I’m glad that they are likeable and comfortable-type people.

Today was even longer than yesterday. It started the same way, with the breakfast and the ferry ride, but our destination was different. We spent most of the day in the Topkali Palace. This was the primary residence of the Ottoman sultans. Most of the finery was saved and the grounds were turned into a huge museum. I can see why the sultans picked this spot. It’s high above the Bosporus, in a protected location, but also has an incredible view.

There were impressive displays of shiny or fancy things. Thousands of antique china plates. Embroidered silk robes. Jewelry sent from every European country. A big box of loose emeralds. Ceremonial armor. And a sailboat made entirely of silver.

The buildings themselves were interesting as well, rich with architectural detail and decoration (tons of painted tiles.) Many of them bore the sultan’s special seal, which varies slightly for each sultan and indicates who commissioned the building. These seals were also on money and all official documents; I think they’re really neat.

There were lots of lovely buildings, including the Harem, which, it seams, has been blown out of proportion by the imaginations of foreigners. All of the ceilings were painted in incredible motifs, and there are thousands of absolutely gorgeous tiles. I hate that the sultans put the wealth of their empire here, rather than benefiting the populous, but some of the work is absolutely stunning. The Ottomans, for all of their faults, had some truly masterful craftsmen.

After hours at the palace, we stopped by the archeology museum next door. This museum has some Egyptian relics brought back by the warriors that conquered that land, which were unexpected and interesting. Other than that, though, it was like a smaller version of the museum in Ankara. I did get a picture of me pretending to be a cute lion, though. And I got yelled at for climbing into a replica of the Trojan horse. (It’s next to the kids’ area, doesn’t have a sign or a rope of any kind, and has a staircase that’s obviously been used hundreds of times. What would you think?)

While we were there, we saw the tomb of Alexander the Great. I didn’t take a picture of that, unfortunately, but this image is from another tomb from about 400 BC, and I really like the emotions on the faces of the mourning women. They’re honest without being cartoon-like. I really don’t think that human figure carving in stone can top this era for realism.

We were too tired to see the whole museum, so we stopped for tea in the garden of the museum. Once again, it’s filled with Roman stuff, and in fact, some of the miscellaneous capitals for the columns are being used as tables. We got all four teas for 2 lira (a bargain even here) and they gave me this awesome tea tray to carry them to the table (tea-guys in the street have these and twirl them over their heads. I didn’t try it.)

After all of that excitement, we made our way slowly back to the hotel, had a little rest, and then went to dinner with some of Emre’s father’s relatives. Our guide didn’t remember the best route and we misplaced ourselves in one of the poorer neighborhoods in town. It wasn’t my favorite dinner of the trip, in part because whatever I’m allergic to is very common in the area where we visited. We also stayed later than I liked, and I was confused and bored and tired, so I wasn’t in a great mood when we made it back. As of now, I’m exhausted and having trouble keeping my eyes open. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

This morning we set out for Istanbul. Here’s an excerpt from my journal, written along the way: “We’re in the car, on the way to Istanbul. There was some conflict about whether Emre’s father would join us, but in the end he did, so we’re four, setting off across the Anatolian plateau. Even now, miles outside of Ankara, huge apartment buildings in neat rows and files are scattered to either side of the road. They’re huge concrete structures with friendly, pastel veneers. Today, they are new, “modern” and desirable. But tomorrow? Are they well constructed? Will people want to live here? Are these the ghettos of tomorrow’s Turkey?

So, we’re going to Istanbul (not Constantinople). The more I learn about this city, the more it swells in my imagination. The names Istanbul, Constantinople, Byzantine, all have a faint scent of spice and smoke and mystical Eastern-ness. Since I’ve started noticing, I see references to it in the oddest places. I know, however, from meeting Istanbulites, that it is, in fact, a vibrant, modern place today.

I can’t wait to see it, the grandeur and the splendor, the east and the west, the luxury and the filth, the sea and the sky, the old and the new. I wonder if it will live up to my expectations.”

We went through the sequence of landscapes, again: City, outskirts, plains, pine trees, green mountains, farm land, and this time we went all the way to the western shore.

We stopped for lunch in the green hills, and I had a “hamburger” that was actually a kofte (Turkish meatball) on a fried bread. I like kofte, but it wasn’t what I was expecting, so I was disappointed. The ayran fountain was kind of neat, though. This must be how shops make bubbly ayran.

I slept a little bit after the meal, but I woke up to take this photo of the ground-zero of the 1996 earthquake. Notice that the apartment buildings are new and fine, but in the foreground, with the cow, is a bunch of concrete rubble. This is what’s left of a bunch of buildings that crumbled in the quake. Thousands of people died in this catastrophe, and many homes and businesses were completely destroyed. Life goes on, though, and in another 10 years, the rubble will be covered with grass and cow poo, and it will join the relics of civilizations long ago: just a part of the ground.

Our first stop in Istanbul was to visit Ali’s brother, who owns a flower shop. They make the big displays that have stands. I’d only seen these at funerals in the states, but they’re commonly sent to weddings and graduation ceremonies, here. It was really hot when we got to the office, and I was kind of confused because I had misunderstood where we were going. The brother seemed like an okay guy, he’s younger than Ali and told lots of jokes. He spoke quickly in Turkish, though, and, despite the best efforts of everyone around to make me comfortable, I started to get bored and tired after the first hour or so of “catching up” in a foreign language. I spent a lot of time looking at the wall in the office. The Elvis-like photo is the uncle, 40 years ago. Behind the TV antenna is the requisite Ataturk photo, but this one shows a seated, older man. He seems human, unlike the 1984-style portraits that stare.

After the family visit, we popped by the hotel, and then went out for a walk. We’re staying on the Asia side of the Bosporus, and when we walked along the shore, we could see all of the great monuments in the distance. One of the most unusual things I’ve seen so far is the feral animals. The street dogs are all these big, lazy creatures that think they own the place. In a way, they do. Feral dogs have been a part of this city since before the Turks arrived in the 16^th century, and many of these dogs may be descended from those dogs who were here hundreds of years ago. They seem to know this. They aren’t violent at all towards people (and in fact they even ignore domestic dogs) and they sleep confidently on medians, sidewalks, parking lots. They’ve all got these big, black, intelligent eyes, and they just seem to be watching the hustle of everything around them, like fuzzy aliens amusedly co-existing with the society around them. The city of Istanbul, for a very long time, tried to poison the dogs, to get rid of the mess and garbage-eating, but they’ve given up in recent years. Now you can see many of the dogs with bright ear-tags, a sign that they’ve been fixed and vaccinated and left to their wild habitat: the streets of the city.

We stopped for bit, and I had an ice-cream (these are called Cornetto’s, and I like them very much, there’s a ribbon of caramel in the middle.) We climbed up on some boulders by the water (each one was a meter high) and watched the sun set. The colors were incredible, and the sun, as it set, was the same size and shape as the caps of the mosques, as if the sun itself were just one more dome on the horizon, a natural part of the sky-line of the city.

We walked back to the hotel in twilight, and went up to the roof-top for dinner in the restaurant. I had a Turkish classic: Balik (fish) and Raki (anise-flavored spirits.) I don’t usually like fish, but the bass, despite having the head, had a mild flavor and it was very pleasant with the strong drink and the sides of vegetables and melon. From the window next to us, we could see the lights of the famous sites: Hagia Sofia, the blue mosque, the 19^th century German-designed train station, the pier, and the boats. Tonight there were also fire-works, in celebration of the anniversary of Sultan Mehmet II taking the city from the Byzantines 553 years ago. It was very nice, and we stayed in the restaurant a long time, talking about the city, and history, and our plans for tomorrow. My first impression of the city may have been “crowded and dirty,” but the sunset more than made up for it. I’m getting the impression that the city here, in many ways, is more relaxed than other cities its size. There’s a little bit less control, and a little bit more of an attitude that the city itself is living. It was here before the Turks, it has its moods and shifts and guardian dogs, and likely the city will be here long after I’m gone, as vibrant as it is today.