Between Two Continents...

Ode to Istanbul...

2009-07-22T14:07:00.000-07:00

We have come
full circle
and the Anatolian Cafe music
slows me to the rhythm
of you, dear Istanbul...
where there is always time
for an alley chai,
silver spoons tinkling on glass
for a Turkish coffee in a cafe,
thick muddiness at the base of the delicate cup
for an Efes in the James Joyce Irish Pub,
accompanied by a duo singing American tunes...

Under the hypnotizing eys
of Samuel Beckett
creator of a pair
who wait
patiently impatient
for an elusive Godot
while repeatedly examining
the contents of their empty-soled boots...
Under the map
of Ulysses' travels
in you, dear Istanbul,
in this James Joyce Pub...

My tongue
muddled with chai and efes
cannot even gather the words
for a question.

I tell you
it would be easy to fall in love with you,
beloved Istanbul,
wanting to know
if I should keep my heart open, vulnerable.
And in answer
you take my hand
my palm
pressing into places
that I'd thought had atrophied
long, long ago.

I am raw
beneath
within
your hands.

You are all flow of movement,
terra firma,
rooted between sky and soil.
You are breath, spirit, energy.

Together,
dear Istanbul,
we nurtue a calm and tranquil mind,
focusing - without tension --
on the hand
that moves across the eyes
but still aware
of the morning breeze,
the Turkish conversation
as students wait for the bus to appear.
The cardiac rhythm of the fountain,
and the magpies
searching for their own breakfast.

And I mirror your breathing,
beloved Istanbul,
deep, low belly pulses,
and we seamlessly shift roles
mentor to student to mentor
here in this land that seems less foreign every day.

You are a most patient teacher.

You and I,
dear Istanbul,
are learning the many positions
the forms
of affection,
remembering ourselves
that effortless exhale
is woven intricately
into our willingness
to breathe each other in...

Namaste,
Marianne

Images of Istanbul...

2009-07-22T08:54:00.000-07:00

2009-07-19T08:42:00.000-07:00

July 19

Today we visited the shrine to the Virgin Mary in Ephesus. This may seem odd in a country filled with the call to prayer and mosques, but Mary is actually acknowledged in the Koran as the mother of the prophet Jesus. The shrine is located in the house where Mary supposedly lived out her life. There are three main pieces of evidence for the claim that this house is actually where she lived.

One piece has to do with Jesus, while on the cross, asking John to know Mary as his mother, to take care of her as his mother... and for Mary to know John as her son. John apparently spent about 2 1/2 years in Ephesus, so it is assumed that he took the responsibility to take care of Jesus' mother and brought her to Ephesus with him.

Another piece has to do with the fact that there is a church dedicated to Mary, which we saw on the outskirts of the Ephesus ruins today. Typically, in the early days of the Church, places of worship were only dedicated to persons who had lived and/or died in the locality.

The third piece of evidence has to do with the visions of a nun in Germany, Anna Emmarich. She never left Germany and experienced stigmata over the course of her life. She also apparently avery accurately described the house where Mary lived in her later years as well as the hills of Ephesus which surround the home.

And so this space in Ephesus is dedicated to the Virgin Mary. There is a long wall on which people tie pieces of cloth, making prayer wishes in this sacred space. I'd like to dedicate this particular blog to my mother and both my grandmothers... women of the Novena on Tuesday nights, women whose fingers wore indentations in rosary beads during their lifetimes. I am named after the Virgin Mary, through this long line of Catholic women who sought strength from Mary far more often than anyone else in their lives...To honor these three women in my family, I sang "Ave Maria" on the bus as we drove through the hills of Ephesus back to our hotel. I am hoping all three women, in some way, heard that song...

Food Update

2009-07-19T05:44:00.000-07:00

July 19

It is perhaps around the table -- breaking bread together here in Turkey -- that we have the opportunity to know one another best. This Fulbright group is truly remarkable, and the talents, knowledge, and passions each person brings to the table is always amazing. Having a glass of blackberry wine, which is a local specialty, or enjoying a glass of Efes beer with Patricia -- which is her personal favorite -- are also times that we can celebrate our collective "geekiness" together and simply rejoice in who we are both individually and collectively.

One of the sites at the ruins was a small monument dedicated to St Phillip, who was martyred. None of us know how he was martyred, but this query led to a questioning of how we would each like to be martyred. Our beloved Martin the Wise concocted the most memorable way to be martyred: being tickled to death.

If you look closely at the woman making the Gozlemeci (a kind of pita bread , thinly rolled and baked on the hot wheel, you will see a computer above her left shoulder. Another example, one of many, of the ancient arts juxstaposed against the modern life...

Here we see the buffet spread at the Pamukkale hotel. Patricia is especially drooling over the dessert tables...

Linda, seated above with Patricia, is our "still waters run deep woman" on this journey. She's brought and read the most novels, and she generously shares them with others when finished. She is a living, breathing, sharing cornucopia of books and book recommendations...Patricia actually convinced her to play "maid" for a day, but that wore off quickly when Linda ( with a few not so subltle words) told Patricia what to do when Patricia asked her to hold a parasol over her head as we trudged through the heat of the ruins.... And so it goes in Turkey... We are all getting a bit of travel fatigue and heat stroke, I think. Doug keeps mumbling something about "a wee donkey," and Monica was walking around singing "I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts..." which just appeared in the air as we visited the home of the Virgin Mary in Ephesus. More about that journey in another blog...

A special photo for my ten year old daughter Allegra

2009-07-19T05:40:00.000-07:00

July 19

In her recent email to me here in Turkey, my daughter Allegra (10) asked about all the big spiders in Turkey that she has heard about. Well, in one of the bascillias, this is what we found. It is hard to determine size from this photo, as there is nothing to show scale. However, it is about the size of a smallish hand. So, Allegra.... there's what you've been waiting for! Sadly, when we tried to urge this critter to move, we discovered that it had met its death. I will keep a lookout for alive spiders for you, Allegra!

Soaking in the Thermal Mineral Baths at Pamukkale

2009-07-19T05:20:00.000-07:00

July 19

Again, backtracking a bit... we stayed at a Thermal Mineral Springs Hotel in Pamukkale a few nights ago. This was a luxury accomodation, with the option of delving into many spa services: Clepatra mud bath, reflexology, Turkish bath and massage, Ottoman Foam Massage, Flowers Aroma Bath, Algea Face and Body Mask, and even a Cellulite Massage, if you were so inclined. Several of the women relaxed into various packages of these spa services and thoroughly enjoyed the quiet and the deep sense of relaxation...

I chose to spend my time in the various levels of the thermal spa, which was a part of the regular hotel package. Either way, this was the most decadent day of our Fulbright... but, we think, well deserved after miles and miles of uphill walking through the ruins and cave churches. We thank Gottfried for this experience and his sensitivity to know when the group simply needs to take time out to exhale, reflect, and relax together...

To baske in the most boiling thermal pool, you would need to begin at the top. I believe Martin is our rock star for this event, as he spent a total of 45 minutes in the uppermost pool. The rest of us were one or two layers down, in water that was still very hot, but not scalding. I felt like I had drawn a lovely hot bath, slid in to soak, and the temperature never cooled off.... Yes, a little bit of paradise.

Visiting the ruins of Hierapolis near Pamukkale

2009-07-19T04:23:00.000-07:00

July 19

Ah, I am behind in my entires, so I am going back a few days ago to our visit of the ruins of Hierapolis. The feeling of stepping back, way back, in time was palpable as we walked up the ancient Roman road through this site. Much of the front end of the site was a graveyard, and since this was a very multicultural place, the burial sites vary as you move through this space. Sarcophgi lined the road, with Monica taking a moment to actually try one out. There were even round burial places, which you can see in one of the photos.

The theatre, though, was the highlight for me... it took my breath away. It is in remarkable condition, and the acoustics in this space were phenomenal. Gottfried told us about another similar theatre he had viewed years ago, and at that time the tour guide had dropped a coin from just a few inches from the floor of the stage. You could hear that coin all the way up to the top of the theatre, which holds 9,000 people. We had various reactions to being in this space. Some, like Craig, just wanted to sit in the quiet and absorb the sounds. Some, like Scott, wanted to recite Shakespeare from the arch directly behind the stage. We could hear his words all the way at the top of the theatre... And some, like Paul, just wanted to rejoice!

Monica, trying out one of the sarcophagi...

The public latrine provided another fascinating glimpse into Roman times. Apparently, the latrines were the place to meet, greet, and catch up on local gossip. The columned structure was awesome and Paul, especially, found the many anthorpological explanations a bit hard to believe...

All in all, a most glorious and satisfying day stumbling around the ruins of Hierapolis...

Back Tracking to comment on art...

2009-07-16T20:41:00.000-07:00

July 17

Just a quick back look at some of the art we've encountered... Wanted to show a sculpture of the Whirling Dervishes that was on the wall at our hotel in Konya. You see the images of the Whirling Dervishes literally everywhere in Konya.

Also, I wanted to show the image of the Fertile Female Goddess, which is strongly linked to the site at Catalhoyuk.

The other drawings, mosaics, etc... are part of an educational project sponsored by Shell. Groups of students are bussed into the site at Catalhoyuk, given an opportunity to speak with the grad students working on the excavation, and then given some time and space to create their own art, based on what they have taken in during the workshops. Much of it is imatative, but with their own creative spin. It is amazing to think that art from 9,000 years ago continues to inspire our young artists today...

May you discover a creative way to express yourself today, remembering that "Imitation is the most sincere form of flattery..."

We are off to the Hieropolis Roman ruins this morning... I think we have quite a hike up the mountain, but the trek is always, always worth it...

A Selcuk Mosque on the way to Pamukkale

2009-07-16T14:43:00.000-07:00

July 16

We visited a Secuk Mosque on the way to Pamukkale today. It ha a very different feel to it, largely due to the many wooden structures within the worship space. A very beautiful mosque... The central area under the dome was not composed of tiles, as most have been. This one had a plaster background and then shapes were filled in individually with small fragments of tile. From a distance, it looks as if it is painted. Up close, one can see the tremendous labor of love...

At the mosque, a Koran school was underway for young boys and girls. As you can see from the photos, many of the girls wanted to have their photos taken. A trio decided to turn the photos into an MTV movie shoot style opportunity! They had great fun looking at the photos as I took them. They followed us to the bus, blowing kisses to us through the windows.

We were told that the Koran schools are state sponsored. This is because when the Koran schools are held privately, they sometimes turn into political Islam.

I purchased a purple scarf with crocheted embroidery around the edge from a woman just outside the mosque. She was kind enough to fix my scarf "the Turkish way" as I entered the mosque. More on our travels to Pamukkale after I get my requisite 4 hours of sleep tonight...

Our Last Night in Konya

2009-07-16T14:10:00.000-07:00

July 16

Our last night in Turkey was filled with delicious food, yet again, and music. The top picture of this blog shows one of the specialties in Konya, which is a dough wrapped around a very spicy sausage, sliced. The hilarious aspect of the dish was the two smiley fries, which are exactly like the ones Annelise and Allegra get when they go to Bob Evans! The mushroom dish was a vegetarian plate for Patricia, who has sworn off meat. The Turkish diet is loaded with meats: beef, lamb, chicken... The waiter brought a single mushroom to the table, motioned that it was to be sliced, and then we just nodded yes. Patricia ended up with an amazing casserole of mushrooms, tomatoes, peppers, etc... doused in olive oil, butter, and cheese.

Later last night, we went to the "night club" at our hotel. Keep in mind that Konya is a very pious city, where most of the women veil in one form of another. So, the nightclub is really a boys' club, as very few women come out for those kinds of events --whether they be indoors like this or out on the street in a cafe. There instrumentalists accompanied the female singer, who was very alluring and sexy in her performance. We couldn't tell whether the songs were traditional Turkish folk songs or popular Turkish music, but everyone seemed to know all the tunes. They were easy to pick up and hum along to...

One disappointing thing happened regarding laundry at the hotel. The previous hotel in Cappadocia charged 15 lire for a whole bag of wash. Patricia and I both submitted a few items to be laundered -- about 20 items in all. The bill was 170 lire, which is almost $120 dollars. We could have thrown out all the clothes and bought a partial new wardrobe for that price. Even the workers at the reception desk said, "Yes, very expensive." I allowed my self to "pout" for a few minutes, and then had to just let it go and move on...

Our Excursion to Catalhoyuk

2009-07-15T08:17:00.000-07:00

July 14

This has been a day of inhaling and exhaling, and it has left me absolutely breathless...

We visited Catalhoyuk today, which is about one hour from Konya. This is one of the most important neolithic settlements in Anatolia, exemplifying the first examples of a community with a stratified society, division, of labor, arts -- but without scripture and with minimal statehood. They have found no examples of weapons, so the people here seemed to live in peace with one another some 9,000 years ago. They have discovered, based on artifacts and careful study of the bones found, that this appears to be a fairly equal society when it comes to roles of men and women. This is also the place where the Fertile Mother Goddess sculpture was discovered. Therese, I know you are following the blog, and I want you to know that I found the perfect addition to your altar, which I will share with you when I get home...

So many images permeate this day:

*watching the grad students work so meticulously on site, filling in cracks with a fixative via syringes

*learning that one grad students was listening to "oldies" on her Ipod... the Beatles!

*learning that the famous Lucy was so named because the excavators were actually listening to "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" when she was found

*seeing the bones of the infant with the two bracelets, feeling that mother's sorrow

*watching the Fulbrighters ascend the hill as we moved from one site to another, a company of friends invested in learning and knowing and understanding

*seeing the low clouds behind Scott, reminiscent of the plains in the States

*assuming the Fertile Mother Goddess stance with Patricia, knowing that we are deeply connected to all the women who came before us, squatting and laboring to give birth... Patricia and I have given birth to eight children, collectively

*standing in that golden field, feeling the wind moving though me and around me, and knowing what it must feel like to be able to truly soar, to truly fly

A fond farewell to our Adam...

2009-07-15T07:45:00.000-07:00

July 15

It is with sadness that we all bid farewell to Adam, a "guest" Fulbrighter who has been with us the entire journey thus far. Adam is a Byzantium specialist and has enlightened us with his wisdom numerous times during this trip. He's leaving early, based on pre-arranged conditions, to attend a family wedding back in the States.

Just a little anecdote about our beloved Adam...

When visiting one of the old churches, Adam just very naturally started talking to a group of very enamoured old ladies about the paintings. He became "instant tour guide" and dazzled this group of tourists with his command of the period and his knowledge of the paintings. I'd been standing a bit off to the side, just eavesdropping on Adam's impromptu lecture, and I couldn't help but move closer to hear what he was sharing. I ended up listening just behind his shoulder, and at that moment, one of the old women exclaimed, "Is this your boy? You must be very proud of him!"

Well, having just turned 50 in April, I'm still going through a bit of a mid-life crisis in my head, so that comment just crumpled my moment! Really, though, Adam is 24, and he is the same age as my daughter Alicia. So, without a doubt, he could be my son!

And so, dear Adam, this is just to let you know that if ever I had a son (I have four wonderful daughters), I would want him to be exactly like you! You are kind, generous, filled with knowledge, have your priorities straight about what matters in the world, are a superb teacher in the classroom and in makeshift settings in Turkey, and have a biting wit that makes me smile and smile. You're willing to try that liquidy yogurt with the salt and even a sip of my Turkish coffee just to say you did. You are ready to tackle homemade lentil soup when you return home, which will remind you of every meal here in Turkey. I envision the frozen food supplies in your freezer dwindling as a result of all the "fresh" food you've consumed here. Plus, you are a superb consulant when it comes to shopping for clothing... What more could I ask in a son????

We're going to carry around a cardboard replica of you and insert you in all the upcoming photos as we move from Konya to Pamukkale to Ephesus and then back to Istanbul. There will be a hole in all of our hearts without you on the rest of the journey.

I wish you memorable adventures as you navigate the Konya and DeGaulle Airport in Paris. Fear not, for you are loved...

What I will remember most about you, however, is your ability to put all of us at ease with our questions. You have been the "go to guy" about the Byzantine Period, and you always gently answered each of our questions, without making us feel less than or ignorant in the process.

And so, I bid you good journey with these Turkish proverbs, which you live so beautifully...

"Good actions are never lost."

"It is not disgraceful to ask, it is disgraceful not to ask."

"A heart in love with beauty never grows old."

We will miss you, Adam! A good journey to you, dear friend and son!!!

Namaste,

Marianne/Mom and Pop

Visiting teh Alaeddin Keykubed Camii (Mosque) in Konya

2009-07-14T14:32:00.000-07:00

July 14

We are in Konya now, a very conservative city of about one million people. All of us are dressing more conservatively, avoiding shorts and tank tops and trying to basically cover up more flesh...

We visited this mosque today. It had a very different flavor from the many mosques we visited in Istanbul and other cities. This is a Seljuk mosque, which means it is a pre-Ottoman Turk worship space. A fascinating aspect of this mosque is that the constructors used what they could find in the creation, and there are numerous old Roman pillars withing the structure of the mosque. It is also unusual because the dome is not centralized, thereby causing spaces for prayer that are not necessarily in view of the dome and the beautiful tile work around the Mihrab -- the niche in the wall that marks the direction of Mecca. The prayer halls are usually laid out so that most people can view the Mihrab, but that was not the case in this mosque.

In the photos, you'll also see a step structure, often made of wood. This is called a Minbar, and this is always to the right of the Mihrab, used by the Iman to deliver sermons during Friday services.

Hiking in the Ihlara Vadesi Valley

2009-07-14T07:15:00.000-07:00

Ihlara Vadesi Valley

The river speaks here...

We hiked this valley

yesterday

first descending three hundred fifty-five stairs

then planting feet

on uneven soil.

This is no place for Birkenstocks

but this journey

was a surprise,

a gift kept secret for this day.

And so my feet adjust

and I find my footings,

generous, friendly hands helping me

over lopsided terrain.

The river speaks here...

as we lift ourselves up

into church caves,

miniature cathedrals in the rock.

Altars of carved stone,

Jesus lounging in an oriental seated position,

grafitti scrawled between the sacred words.

Many figures have lost their sight,

eyes vanished from these frescos.

I whisper sing

hardly any breath to make the music

where charity and love prevail

and I hear ancient voices

in harmony.

The overtones in this cavern sanctuary

reach back in time,

in words foreign to my western ears.

The river speaks here...

It has been a very wet spring

in Cappadocia

they tell us

and the poppies

even in July

still gather in hillside bouquets

with dwarfed queen anne's lace

and clusters of daisies.

The river speaks here...

We pause for chai and apple tea

at a cafe

along this valley floor.

Some of us remove our shoes,

ravel up our trouser legs,

move

liberated

through the stream.

Others sip tea

blending one cube of sugar

with the tinkling of a petite silver spoon.

Others fill palms with river water,

anointing head

neck

shoulders

with the coolness

of this place.

And others find a log in the sun,

lean back,

bare throats to the sky

and just listen to the water

speak gently

so very gently

to us

as we close our eyes

in the mid-afternoon sun...

-Marianne, July 2009

Beyond Witnessing... the Whirling Dervish Ceremony at Carevanserai

2009-07-13T22:42:00.000-07:00

I. In generosity and helping others, be like a river*

This is a place of open sky
an ancient oasis for resting, refreshing,
a place to wash the desert
from sandaled feet
and sand-scorched eyes

II. In compassion and grace, be like the sun

The sun has set
and we walk through the stony lot
surrounding this respite space.
Once inside,
I look up to see
the clear cappadocian sky
unencumbered by roof or dome
my face open to the night air
soft and mischievous on my neck, my shoulders.
There is lightning in the darkness
fragments of intermittent light
and the rain begins to puddle around my feet.

III. In concealing others' faults, be like night

And as the sky opens up
we travel back to candlelight
bats darting into ceiling cracks
of a side room
sheltered from the raining sky.
There is apple tea
warm and syrup sweet in our hands.
One candle transforms this dwelling
into the long ago, into the far away.

IV. In anger and fury, be like the dead

A theatre in the round holds all of us
observers of the ancient Sufi ritutual
Eleven men enter
dark-robed, black-robed,
bowing to us, one at a time.
I am voyeur, refusing to avert my eyes.
I eavesdrop in this darkness.
The Hat -i Serif begins,
a eulogy to the Prophet.
This is love song, lament,
a praise melody
followed by Kun Be,
a reverberation on the drums
patterned to evoke
the Creator,
fashioning order out of chaos,
the world an unstill body
revoling in each of us
around each of us
through each of us.

V. In modesty and humility, be like the earth

And then there is that voice again
joined by the fingered harp
in the lap of the man
who cannot remain isolated in this music.
His partners in this song
look forward,
eyes unblinking,
rooted in the song, unflinching.
But he is the unspoken conductor
eyes connecting
this soul to soul salutation
he cannot refrain
from smiling, nodding, acknowledging
the harmonies of the reed flutes.
And I remember Ramchadra
a blind boy in Nepal
leading his band of sightless musicians
in a back-house courtyard
on the first eve of the Tihar Festival.
His body is a shadow
conducting in three-quarter time
a Nepalese walty
and my feet cannot remain
silent in the presence of this rhythm,
and so I ask him to dance
ask him to conduct
from that small space next to the wok
where our dinner is beginning to crackle, to sizzle.
"I cannot dance. I've never danced," he tells me.
And I match my palms to his,
my hips to his,
and our swaying becomes our dancing
and he tells me,
"There is nothing separating us now.
We are one in this dancing..."

VI. In tolerance, be like a sea

And then the black cloaks
are removed
slowly
ritualistically
lovers baring themselves
to their beloved,
a birthing to the truth
layer upon layer exposed
to an all-embracing lover.
There is no fear here,
no need for modesty,
and their arms, crosswise,
testify to God's unity,
their unity with God.

I watch them unravel themselves
solitary
but not at all alone.
It is on each face, this joy,
this uniting with their beloved,
these revolutions of the body
revolving around the heart,
pivoting around the heart.

And all the while
there is a consciousness of place,
right hand reaching toward the sky
open palmed
receptive
a hungry hand
reaching toward
and receiving
simultaneously
and the left hand
rooted to the earth
grounded
his body becomes a conduit
a holy vessel
open
both receiving and returing
grace to his beloved.

I move my hands in tandem
stretching toward this ecstacy,
the drums calling me, inviting me.
There is a soul to soul in this place,
my hands a mirror ofhis
my body open
in the lightning of this place
transcending and transfixed,
yet firmly rooted,
pulled and torn in their twirling,
their whirling has taken me
a most willing captive.
Revolving, turning
I am transformed
a dervish, one with them,
on this starless Cappadocian night,
an ode to joy.

*from the Seven Advice of Mevlana

-Marianne

Images from our experience of Sufi Whirling Dervish Ritual...

2009-07-12T07:49:00.000-07:00

July 12, I think...

Last night we went to a Sufi Whirling Dervish Ceremony, somewhere in Cappadocia. We were able to photograph the area prior to the ritual, but once the ceremony began, all cameras needed to be tucked away. In addition, there was no smoking, no cells, and no applause. They are trying to maintain the integrity of an ancient ritual that was certainly never meant for "entertainment" purposes... Okay, we were at the historical Carevanserai for this event. I will write more about this experience in a later post...

2009-07-11T21:26:00.000-07:00

July 12

Yesterday we visited the Open Air Museum at Goreme, in Cappadocia. There are a cluster of churches in this area, which were inhabited by monks and nuns. Much of the painting remains, although it may be difficult to view these photos, as many had to be taken without a flash. The sense of the sacred in this space was overwhelming, especially in regard to the acoustics in the small altar spaces within the caves.

There was a mixture of very simple shapes painted in a red/rust paint and the more elaborate frescos and paintings directly on the surface of the rock. One theory is that once the space was carved out into a worship space, there was a need to protect that space from invasion by evil spirits. Hence, the simple geometric/religious shapes. Later, then, the religious paintings would be added. Another theory is that the Christians were influenced by the Islamic code that prohibited images of humans and any living being. There was a period where icons were banned (iconoclast = broken icon), so this may have influenced the type of designs and paintings that were created in these cave churches. More later...

Last night we went to view a Sufi Whirling Dervish Ritual... I am overwhelmed by what we have seen and heard the past few days. This is our last full day in Cappadocia, so right now I need to get some protein in for the day's journeys...

May you sense the sacred in the everyday around you today...and may you carry that strong silence with you as you move through your morning into your night.

Namaste,

Marianne

Stopping by the side of the road...

2009-07-10T21:50:00.000-07:00

July 11

Merhaba!

You never know what stopping by the side of the road here in Cappadocia will bring... Not only did a very friendly Turkish woman drape a veil around my head, wanting to be photographed together (and perhaps strike up a sale...), but I also met a very gregarious mule and camel. The opportunities are endless for warmth and exchange, all of which can occur without a common language.

A very special dinner...

2009-07-10T21:14:00.001-07:00

July 10

Last night we were treated to a very special dinner in Cappadocia. The restaurant had pillow seating around a very low table. Although this is an authentic Turkish style establishment, the low tables are actually a modification. Normally, family and friends would simply sit on huge pillows and gather around a tray on the floor, sharing the food from the tray.

The staff at the restaurant was especially friendly and engaging, which we are finding to be the way of life here in Turkey. A combination of beef, tomatoes, peppers, and spices are placed inside a large crock, sealed with dough on the top, and then baked for about three hours. Vegetarian members of our group called in advance to place orders for a vegetarian pottery dish, which included eggplant, mushrooms, etc...

We began with bread and red wine, a specialty of the region. The next course was a salad topped with a purple marinated cabbage, which also seems to be a specialty of this area. We then had a ravioli dish made with a thick yogurt sauce, followed by our main course from the baked terra cotta pots. The owner brings the hot pots to the table and then taps the jar, cracking off the lid in the process. The meat mixture, served with rice and more cabbage, is tender and absolutely beautiful on the plate. More wine, more bread, and the meal continues...

A small plate of dessert contained baklava and apricots drenched in honey. Our culinary life here in Turkey is amazing, and we have had the opportunity to sample many regional specialties along the way. A standing ovation to Gottfried who feeds our intellects, our curiousites, our souls, and our daily hungers of the belly...

Some Travel Fatigue Setting In...

2009-07-10T09:10:00.000-07:00

July 10

Ah, what Gottfried calls "travel fatigue" seems to be settling in... Several of the Fulbright folks have been down and out with stomach issues over the last several days. My roommate, Patricia, wasn't able to participate in the adventures today due to stomach cramping, so this "bug" seems to be working its way through the group... Pictured above moving left to right: Adri and Douglas, then Craig, then Adam our Byzantine expert, then Kristen, then Orelia, and finally Keith. These photos were taken in the lobby of our current hotel, which has many personal alcoves for lounging or simply being exhausted. We had just been to the Citadel, climbing to the very top in the bright morning sun...

Pictures from that journey will be coming in a future post!

I'm off to get some water bottles for Patricia, so that she has something to mix her Gatorade in while we are at dinner.

I wish all of you bright sun on your faces and the joy of discovering newness in your world...

Namaste,

Marianne

Wading in the Salt Lake

2009-07-10T03:21:00.000-07:00

July 10th

We stopped at a salt lake and the experience was very different than I anticipated. I'd heard people could effortlessly float on the Dead Sea, for example. This lake was loaded with course salt rocks, some small like pebbles, others the size of golf balls. It was easier to drag one's feet through the salt than to pick each foot up and walk. Pataricia, my roommate, gave herself a salty spa treatment, rubbing salt everywhere she could. She ended up looking like Chalk Woman when it all dried...

A virus seems to be permeating the group. We had three people unable to go out on adventures with us today, and we had to take Jeff to the hospital. They gave him an i.v. drip and some antibiotics. He's now back at the hotel. We are hoping we don't all come down with whatever bug is floating between us...

Initial Images as we entered Cappadoccia

2009-07-09T22:42:00.000-07:00

July 10th

We arrived in Cappadoccia last night, taking in a salt water lake on the way. This place has captured more than our imaginations. Today I will learn more about these human and pigeon houses carved into rock. There are "fairy chimneys," too, which are supposed to look like ghosts dancing in the night. I need to get downstairs to board the van, as we are going exploring once again. I've given up on this writing being a linear account, so please be patient as I move in and out of our time sequence. I just had to let you see the magical place we are in right this moment... And, dear Nana, happy birthday to you! I miss you... and I wish, as you live in that Alzheimers unit with FDR speeches playing all the time over the loud speaker, that you remembered me, too...

Impressions in Ankara

2009-07-08T14:23:00.000-07:00

July 8

We spent the day becoming more familiar with Ankara, especially the old city area. I conquered my somewhat queasy fear of heights and ended up climbing quite high on the old city walls. Patricia had no fear whatsoever, practically dancing on the tops of the walls. Scott did his Tai Chi sequence in the middle of the fortification. It was beautiful watching him move from position to position in an effortless flow. An appreciate crowd applauded him when he finished... We continue to observe the seeminly "old" juxstaposed against the new, as demonstrated by the women wearing headscarves as they exchange a cell phone.

The Ancient Craft of Rug Making in Ayvacik

2009-07-07T14:22:00.000-07:00

July 8, 2009

You could not know.
You did not see her hands,
two crochet hooks ferreting out the pattern
the pattern encoded in her hands
embedded in a silent, solitary place
as she builds the design
weaves the wool
color by color...

You could not know.
You did not see her eyes
emerging from her headscarf.
Filigreed edges.
These patterns I know
from my own Nana.
Summers in that coal town attic
adding borders to round doilies
with swirled centers,
concentric circles.
Here, in this village,
these are flowers,
planted lace around her face,
with no fear of the bloom ever fading.

You could not know
You did not see them
move from kettle to kettle
in those cotton salvar pants
that bend with your working
breathe with you
as you move from pot to pot
pants that stretch with you
grow with you
expand, even, toward birthing
And always
her skin remains hidden
beneath the folds
granting comfort,
granting modesty.

You could not know.
You did not see
the graddaughter all in white
shadowing her grandmother
cozied around her shoulders
she watches the old woman
turn a singe thread
into a skyful of color in her hands.

You could not know.
You did not see
the generations of shoes
scattered beneath the stairs,
never bringing the sole dirt inside,
abandoning the dusty layer
of moving through the world
outside the place they call home.

You could not know.
You did not see
the vats of dyes,
one simmering dandelions,
another a two a.m. blue of the night,
another blood bruised, harvested from the deepest root.
These generations of women
are village chemists
their lab a patch of land
surrounded by a mosque
with an aluminum foil dome
working with stone, stem, stick, and fire,
the formula
a knowing
in their hands...

Namaste,
Marianne

Visiting an ancient Hittite Ruin

2009-07-06T21:02:00.000-07:00

July 7, 2009

Sister Elizabeth Walters
once told me
that I have a fine funeral presence
that I sing the dearly departed souls
into paradise
guiding them gently
to find their angels
in the holy city,
that my voice
was light in the darkness...

And I remember
singing Schubert's Ave Maria
in the cavernous abyss of St. Thomas
for a seventeen year old boy
whose brother had found him
foaming at the mouth
from drugs his body insisted on expelling.
The boy's mother
had gently caressed his coffin
during the Kyrie
but during the Ave Maria
she wanted more of him in her arms,
and she cradled the casket
with her whole body
rocking him to the sound
of this Mary lullabye.
And it was at that moment,
when I could no longer witness such grieving,
when she finally held son gently firm
in her mother arms,
that I no longer needed breath
to sing.
The Ave Maria filled that space
between the altar and the stained glass
and I watched this lost mother
find her son.
My singing self,
so meticulously conscious of vowel and breath
of inhaling and exhaling,
so aware of each Latin syllable
disappeared,
and the language of memory
took over the song.

And today
standing on a mountaintop
surrounded by the ruins
of a three thousand year old
Hittite ancient city,
I could not leave the site.
This was sacred ground
and I wanted to feel the rootedness
to this space.
And so I placed my feet
shoulder width
and opened my palms
to the wind,
and it was at that moment
that the call to prayer
spoke from the minaret.
I have heard this call to prayer
five times each day, every day,
since landing in Istanbul.
When it all begins,
I hear the ragged break in the silence
and then go about the prayerless business
of my world.
But today
I needed to be still,
wanted to be still,
to call my body
and my mind
to a place
of conscious quiet.
Arabic filled the air
and I closed my eyes,
memorizing words
in a melody immersed in quarter tones
unfamiliar to my western ears.
And all was still,
save for the wind.
And when I opened my eyes
there were blue irridescent clusters
of light.
Silver threads
wove the blue patches
into a tapestry,
a sparkling quilt
that I could touch with my hands.
And I cradled up this blanket of blue and silver
in my open palms
and carried this quiet
down the mountain...

A Day at Princes' Islands

2009-07-04T15:36:00.001-07:00

July 4 Merhaba! Well, today was an "off" day after many days of academic lectures at Sabanci University. We learned a great deal about Turkish Literature, the Ottoman Empire, the role of women in their families, in government, in schools, etc..., All of us have newfound empathy for our students who are often required to sit in uncomfortable chairs for 7 hours each day while in school...

Today, most of us traveled to Princes' Island. This was accomplished via a cab ride of about an hour and a ferry ride of about 45 minutes. Some folks grouped off and hiked up to the monestary at the top of the island. Others took an additional boat ride to one of the more elegant resort beaches on the island. A couple of us decided to just head out on our own, map in hand, and hope for the best. We ended up hiking around the perimeter of the entire island. I will try to find that distance, but suffice to say it took many hours and is probably many miles. We were on a mission to find one of the beaches, but these beaches aren't sand covered, like the ones that are most familiar to us in America. Instead, they are little alcoves off the foot trail, where you pay several dollars to walk into the party there. We only found a few of those, but they didn't satisfy our desire for a peaceful beach... So, no beach, but a lot of good, hot, sweaty walking. We have become accustomed to being sweaty human rags, with the most difficult time bing from 3-5 in the afternoon.

As usual, there is music in the streets. At one restaurant, there was a drummer and an autoharp player. Amazing , full sound!

And so, dear friends, our feet are sore and I have a tad bit of sunburn on my back, but our spirits are still soaring! This was a most lovely day... A well-earned mini-vacation in the midst of a lot a scholarly work...

namaste,

Marianne

As we journeyed around the island, we found a little kebab place, with a grill built into a brick wall outside. That grill is pictured above. In some ways, this island is a bit like Mackinaw Island in Michigan, as there are an unbelievable number of horses on the island. Donkeys, too, permeate the scene in the middle of the island, and we had fun listen to them talk rather loudly. This island far surpasses Mackinaw Island, just in case you wanted to know...

Celebrating Scott's Birthday in Istanbul

2009-07-04T15:16:00.001-07:00

July 3 Merhaba! Today we celebrated Scott's birthday! This is his first and probably only party in Turkey. We arranged in advance for a "cake" for him at a restaurant that is actually famous for it's chicken and beef ravioli. So, we didn't know quite what we might get, because that "cake" concept varies greatly from culture to culture. Along with the salad, the wait staff brought out several plates of rather hard and a bit dry cornbread cut into strips. We assumed this is what translated as cake, although we asked the restaurant not to Americanize the treat. Well, once the main meal was completed, the staff brought out a beautiful chocolate cake with sparklers for candles! I had actually expected layered baklava with a candle stuck in the top of the pile, but we ended up with something that was very familiar to us. Happy Birthday, Scott!!! It was a joy to share this celebration with you!

Holy Site of Eyup

2009-07-04T10:05:00.000-07:00

Merhaba!

These are photos from the holy site of Eyup. The story goes that Fatih Sultan Mehmet was traveling with his teacher after the conquest of Istanbul. His teacher, Ak Semsettin, went into a brushwood and started praying on is prayer rug. Then, he turned to the Sultan and said, "Good news, my lord, Ebu Eyyub-ul is buried here. God Almighty has put our praying rug over his tomb, let them dig this place immediately!"

And so, when the place was dug out, a stone inscribed "Haza kabr i Ebu Eyyub" (tomb of Ebu Eyyup) came out.

Since that timea mausoleum and mosque were built here. It is a sacred site that many devout come to visit.

On the day we were here, there were many young boys dressed in the white, formal outfits. Apparently, this is a day of family gathering and celebration, for tomorrow all of these young boys (most of whom looked to be about age 8) will be ritually circumcised. Truly, we don't think they knew what was in store for them the next day because there was nothing but joy and happy faces everywhere...

We also observed two bodies being brought into the courtyard via a group of men carrying the body on some sort of a slab. Muslims here bury their dead wrapped in a cloth, without a casket.
The body is usually buried withing 24 hours of the death, without any embalming procedures. The bodies arrived in the square via two very large green trucks, which served as herses. There was a group of women, with arms linked, following the men taking the body into the mosque. The women were obviously grieving, and the oldest one was dressed all in black. They were rushing to get the second body into the mosque in time for noon call to prayer. These two funerals took place amidst the many young men who were preparing for their circumcision day.

2009-07-02T15:43:00.000-07:00

Just a few more images... and a couple silly photos... from Gallipoli. The members of this Fulbright are wonderful, engaging, imaginative, and have a great sense of playfulness! We do spend a great deal of time laughing, and we have already managed to define each others' eccentricities!

Namaste,

Marianne

Backtracking to Gallipoli

2009-07-02T15:25:00.001-07:00

Merhaba!

Way back on June 28, we visited the battlefiels at Gallipoli, the fortress of Gallipoli, and the tomb of Yazicioglu Mehmed. The battlefields were the sight of The Battle of Gallipoli in 1915. This was a crucial episode in the grand narrative of the foundation of the Turkish republic.

Catching up a bit...Sabanci and OPRAH

2009-07-02T14:37:00.000-07:00

July 2
Merhaba, everyone! Ah, I am hopelessly behind in blogging, as we weren't able to secure wireless access for a few days here at Sabanci University. We are currently on the Asian side of Istanbul, and we are staying in the dorms at Sabanci. We are here to engage in several scholarly pursuits, albeit the largely "lecture" part of the Fulbright. Mostly, our wonderful leader Gottfried has been filling in with mini-lectures as we move from place to place.

Sabanci is a very prestigious university here in Turkey. It is basically their Harvard. Consequently, there are numerous famous scholars here, which we have been able to engage with this week. Here's a small smattering of the talks we've experienced:

Dr. Hakan Erdem: late Ottoman Empire, Ataturk, and Turkish Modernity
Dr. Asuman Suner: Introduction to Turkish Cinema
Dr. Ayse Gul Altinay: Myth of the Military Nation
Dr. Hulya Adak and Dr. Ayse Yuksel: United Nations Project in Turkey Promoting and Protecting Women and Girls' Human Rights

I won't go into the content of each lecture, but the one that captured me the most was the one on promoting and protecting women and girls. No big surprise there, for those of you who know me! These two professors, in conjunction with the United Nations, have been building a program to raise awareness regarding gender and sexuality issues. There is currently a week long workshop for several teacher in Turkey right here at Sabanci. They are working through modules that address such issues as gender bias in textbooks used in the schools, the normalization of violence, the psychology of adolescence, etc... These issues are very problematic in Turkish schools, as there is currently no program to deal with these issues in the curriculum. We found, through talking with the Turkish teachers at lunch, and through viewing and discussing a Turkish village film with them this evening, that we share many of the same educational and social concerns in our respective schools.

I don't have the name of the film in front of me right now, but the concept was amazing. Village women were interviewed about their life stories. Then, the women put together a theatrical production, telling the stories of their lives. Their "voices" were heard in a most powerful way, and issues related to domestic violence, childbirth, marriage, alcoholism, gender issues in raising boys vs. girls, etc... all became touchstones in this film. The film tracked the rehearsals, showing various women vying for a variety of roles in the production... some did not want to "star" in their own story. Some of the stories had never been told to anyone, not even a family member. The concept of "keeping family secrets," especially when they relate to violence, clearly makes women very vulnerable and despairing targets. The strength and the intrinsic ability to rise above adversity through human connection was evident as the women took their final bows in front of an appreciative village audience.

There were moments in the interviews that, again, connected with many issues we deal with in American culture. One of those issues, discussed by a woman who was raising a son, was especially poignant. She talked about how she cannot change her husband, but as a mother raising a son she can begin to institute change in how males and females relate to one another. Having four daughters myself, I will not be able to contribute to this transoformation; however, though my work at school with at least 75 young men each year, I hope to be a part of that powerful change that makes living together better for both females and males...

Other hot news... Oprah Winfrey is in Istanbul right now!!! We're hearing she loves Turkey so very much that she announced that she announced she was "half Turkish" now. We all wish Oprah well on her journey... As a teacher of literature, I am thankful to Oprah for encouraging so many people to read both classics and modern texts through her Book Club novels.

Just a word about the food... Gottfried has spoiled us for life with the banquets of delights that cover our dinner tables. Here at Sarbanci University, though, we are using the cafeteria food. Cafeteria food, apparently, is universal. We've been eating a great deal of lentil soup, chicken, hazlenut pudding, rice pilah, etc... We've discovered an appetizer that we all crave, and Gottfried even looked up the recipe for us today. It involves many tomatoes, peppers, onions, and some spices we will have to find in the Spice Bazaar when we return to Istanbul at the end of our journey.

I wish you a peaceful day filled with skies as blue and clear as they are above the Bosphorous...

Namaste,
Marianne

Images from the villages...

2009-06-29T16:04:00.001-07:00

June 29

Just a couple more images from the village that is a contributor to the Woman's Cooperative....

Deja Vu From China...

2009-06-29T15:51:00.001-07:00

June 29

Can't travel internationally without having toilette adventures! Experienced some deja vu from Bijie, China today as I encountered the traditional squat toilet facilities when we were at the Women's Cooperative. Suffice to say, the body language of memory kicked in just fine. As a matter of fact, my mastery of this fine art has increased this summer due to much healthier knees. I had knee surgery in the spring last year, which made all the squat facilities in China a tad difficult for me to negotiate. This year, my knees are in a much more cooperative spirit!!! A special note to Nancy, my teaching partner in China last year: I do not have a chamber pot set up at night here in Turkey!

More Images from a Turkish Village

2009-06-29T14:49:00.000-07:00

June 29

These are more images from the village...

Turkish proverb for the day:

"Patience is the key to paradise."

How true this is, especially as we watch the labor-intensive work of these diligent and talented woman who continue to grace the world with these amazing rugs...

Namaste,

Marianne

Life in a Turkish Village

2009-06-29T14:15:00.000-07:00

June 29

Today we traveled to Ayvacik, which was about a 90 minute drive from where we are staying in Canakkale. We visited a Woman's Cooperative specializing in brilliantly colored rugs. Part of the day, too , was spent in one of the villages that participates in the Cooperative. There is a very real division of labor, and we were fortunate to observe the whole process of dying the wool with various natural agents like dandelions. The age span, especially of the woman, at this home in the village was very noticible, with everyone taking part in the process as their age allowed. I will be posting a more detailed post about the village very soon.... As you know by now, we have been kept very busy, thanks to our fearless leader Gottfried. When we spend a portion of the day in the van, there is very little time to actually write, so I apologize in advance for not keeping up with the writing posts on a daily basis.

Another highlight of today was our lunch at Tahtakuslar. This little village is cozied in the mountains and the view from the restaurant truly took my breath away. I have to remind myself to breathe, for every where you turn here, there is such beauty. More photos will follow.

2009-06-28T14:51:00.000-07:00

These are some images from the Spice Market. As you can see, the Turkish people have a wonderful sense of humor, too, and they like to interject themselves into the photos as often as they can!

On the Road Again...

2009-06-27T14:25:00.000-07:00

June 28

Yesterday was an early call, pulling away from the Troya Hotel in Istanbul and heading toward Troy. Several people have caught some kind of intestinal bug, so that makes traveling difficult for them because we are in a van that carries all 18 of us. The group dynamics are lively and quite animated. We've already picked up on the eccentricities and quirkiness of each group member, and we move about Turkey with much laughter...

So... this is a bit of a catch up time. We went to the Grand Bazaar and the Spice Bazaar a couple days ago. The sights, sounds, and smells are absolutely intoxicating in the markets. Hazelnuts are a specialty here, as are apricots, figs, dates, and olives. Everyone tries to lure you into their particular stall or selling area, so the market is filled with very lively interactions.

Visit to Synagogue in Turkey and Adventure in a Traditional Turkish Bath

2009-06-26T16:09:00.000-07:00

June 26
Merhaba, dear friends!

Today was filled with many adventures, part of which began with getting lost before the day even began. A couple of us were bringing up the rear as we traveled on foot to one of the synagogues in Istanbul, and as we were talking, we noticed that the group had taken a turn. Must've been more than one turn very quickly, as we lost them at that moment. We spent the next 45 minutes or so trekking up and down cobbled streets that were very steep. The shower I'd just taken was replaced by early morning climbing sweat.

Fortunately, I had the itinerary in my backpack, so we at least had the name of the synagogue to work with. After asking a series of people for directions, we were able to locate the synagogue. Security at the synagogue is very tight, with entrances off the main street, security cameras, and metal detection systems to go through. The fear of attack is apparently very real, as there was a bomb that went off outside the synagogue a few years back. As a result, the inside of the church is fully equipped with hard hat helmets, all of which are attached to the bottom of each seat in the synagogue. This precaution allows the members to protect themselves in the event of an attack.

Two leaders of the synagogue spoke at length with us this morning. The Jewish community has been a presence in Istanbul for over 500 years. Part of the talk today had to do with the influx of Jews from Spain during the Spainish Inquisition. One of the speakers even shared with us the Spanish influence on music in the synagogue. She also shared a Turkish hymn with us, which had 9 tones between every whole step. She had an amazing voice and mezmerized all of us with her beautiful a cappella singing.

Later in the day, we visited a traditional Turkish bath. We all decided that this would be a lovely way to spend every Friday after school let out for the week. We signed on for the "full package," which consisted of a sauna on a room-size block of warm marble, a scrub down with an exfoliating soap, a jacuzzi, and an oil massage. Each step along the way enhanced the relaxation experience to a new level. The jacuzzi was especially memorable because I was actually alone in there for about fifteen minutes. I noticed that the acoustics in there were especially alive, so I of course began singing. I sang "Havah Nagela," partly to commemorate our trip to the synagogue today. Then, I sang "In the Lord I'll be ever thankful," dedicating this prayerful song to Norm Gouin, my dear friend who is our former music director. I am confident that Norm, wherever he happened to be in Philadelphia this evening, heard that song...

Istanbul is so lovely at night. The lighted mosques are an intricate part fo the skyline, reminding everyone that this is very much an islamic city. The city lights are not overwhelming or garrish, and it is easy to find yourself lingering on bridges and overpasses, just taking in the city.

Yet another ritual begun yesterday and continued today: Turkish coffee. This is a thick substance served in a very small teacup. It can be ordered as "sweet" as one likes, and I opted for very little sweetness. As most of you know, I am not a coffee drinker, but I needed to try this famous national treasure of a beverage. I enjoyed it very much, and it certainly helped propel myself through a very busy day with lots of uphill climbing. In order to finish the Turkish coffee, you must add a little water to the bottom of the cup. Even with this modification, it is very hard to drink it to the last drop...

And with that sharing, I will say goodnight. It is almost three a.m., and I am finding myself becoming more and more sleep deprived. We travel to Troy area tomorrow, with an 8 hour bus ride. So, i should be able to catch up on some sleep on the bus...

I'll close with a most appropriate Turkish proverb for today:

"A cup of coffee commits one to forty years of friendship." -Turkish Proverb

Yes, indeed...

Boating on the Bosphorous

2009-06-24T21:33:00.000-07:00

June 25

Yesterday afternoon, after a cone of refreshing lemon ice cream, we were treated to a boatride on the Bosphorous. It was a shining afternoon, with increasing choppiness on the water as the day progressed. The view from the water made all of us realize the enormity of the Bosphorous...and how the buildings along the shoreline tell story after story about the rich history of Istanbul. Fortresses, summer palaces, mosques, buildings turned into 5 star hotels, children diving into the water along the shoreline mosques, etc... The friendliness of the Turkish people spoke beautifully again, as the owner of the small boat, which held about 25 people, stopped and got water for all of us.

There were moments when I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing...feeling almost as if I'd stumbled upon a postcard and magically walked inside the border. And there were moments when all I could do was close my eyes, position my face toward the sun, and just feel the day on my skin...

I could live here easily...

2009-06-23T14:28:00.000-07:00

June 23

This "Mediterranean" lifestyle is very much in harmony with my natural rhythms, and I can already see a vacation to Italy and/or Greece in my future at some point... There is a warmth and a friendliness here that is very embraceable...

This is a quick photo of my roommate Patricia and me. Just a quick commercial... I truly lucked out on roomates! She is a wonderful human being with a marvelous wit and a great sense of adventure. She, too, has four children, so we have many "mom" stories to swap...Found out this evening, while drinking hazlenut frappes and watermelon smoothies, that she has been involved in college and community theatre, too. While she played the mom in several children's theatre productions, largely because she was tall, I played the "b" Inez in Sartre's No Exit. We can make each other laugh through camera failures, internet frenzy, and not being able to get in or out of our hotel room. By the way, we were a bit stalked by a man who claimed to be a look alike for George Clooney here in Istanbul... Our continued watchword is "tomorrow" as we move on down the cobblestone road...

I've slept three hours last night and about two the night before, so my eyeballs are aching like the dickens... So, I will share today's many adventures in tomorrow's blog. Just to whet your reading appetite, here was our agenda today:

*visit Hagia Sophia

*visit Byzantine Cistern

*Sulyman Mosque, cemetary, grounds...

*hunt for a new camera to replace (hopefully temporary) SLR camera I usually use... an adventure into the bowels of the city, which included more uphill walking than I thought physically possible

*Grand Bazaar

*Spice Bazaar

*walking across famous bridge that used to be chain links designed by the Byzantines to keep the Ottoman Turks from entering the Golden Horn

*observing the city's many skylines at dusk and at nightfall

*riding on tram, train, and subway

I will elaborate on each of the above tomorrow! Oh, by the way, while waiting in heavy traffic, our van was hit by a train.... no injuries, just a jarring smack, and the train kept on going...

And the proverb for the day celebrates the magical nature of friendship, I believe...

"No camel route is long with good company." -Turkish Proverb

Many thanks to all the members of this Fulbright... and a special thanks to Gottfried, our calm-demeanored leader, who is an amazing wealth of knowledge, insight, and information. He is our hero, our shining star, our noble tour guide, our scholar in residence...

Namaste,

Marianne

A very fishy business...

2009-06-22T21:53:00.000-07:00

The markets are overflowing with fish... sea bass and salmon are abundant, especially. There is apparently a whole alley market loaded with fish, which I will have to explore this evening... Off to more adventures. I had figs, dates, and apricots for breakfast...just in case you wanted to know what is rumbling around in my tummy...

Namaste,

Marianne

Music on the streets...

2009-06-22T21:42:00.001-07:00

June 23

More images of the way music permeates the streets of Istanbul. There are musicians on the street, in the terrace cafes, everywhere.... When there are no live musicians present, there is almost always music piped into the streets from the shops. This reminds me of being in Pokora, where the same piece of music, Piridi, was played every morning in the village as shopkeepers prepared for the day. I have heard no more joyous music, no more jubilant way to begin a new day, than through that song. My 8th graders begin the year by dancing the Piridi, eating star fruit... and knowing that I'd like them to accept risk trying many new adventures as we begin the year. Also, in symbolic English teacher fashion, I let them know that they, like the star fruit, are each shining stars in my eyes...

May you find music and let it take over your soul today...

Namaste,

Marianne

2009-06-22T20:45:00.000-07:00

June 23

You never know who your are going to meet on the street here in Istanbul... This is a man who was the 1960 Olympic Wrestiling Champion from Turkey. He greeted us by dancing his biceps up and down his arms, which you could clearly see through his shirt. He invited us to feel the bulcging muscles, and then he proceeded to ask us out for drinks. We "promised" to meet him at the gate the following evening... And so it goes.

I wish you a day filled with people who will share their strengths with you...

Namaste,

Marianne

We are the music makers, we are the dreamers of dreams...

2009-06-22T14:43:00.000-07:00

June 23, sometime after midnight...

Play for me,

dear accordian man,

play for me, your Turkish song.

You need no words

for your melody,

just willing hands,

determined, calloused fingers,

strong lyrical arms,

and a spirit that bellows

between a cobblestone pathway

and the swallows

that dance

illuminated and irridescent,

white bellies arabesque on the wind...

Play for me,

beloved accordian man,

guardian of my waking and sleeping.

I have seen you

in every place I have ever walked...

And as you linger on your final chord

you tip your hat

just to me

and wink,

a knowing

between song and silent lyric,

between you and me,

here in Istanbul...

Food Artistry in Istanbul

2009-06-22T14:01:00.000-07:00

June 22

This photo is just one example of the culinary artistry in Turkey. This is a carved watermelon, displayed amidst the offerings in a street cafe in Istanbul...

Above is another typical example of the beautiful presentation of food in Turkey... The closest similarity in Michigan would probably be the display windows in Mackinac City, where people stand mezmerized watching fudge afficianados stretch, pull, and cut that deliciously gooey substance. The food workers here in Istanbul are very gregarious, often calling to people strolling along the walkway to come and try their creations. There are many ice cream and gelato small shops, and many of the vendors dress up in costumes that are especially pleasing and attractive to young children... almost a clownish outfit... and they make a delightful production out of crafting a heaping cone of ice cream from various flavors. The result is magical.

To share another Turkish proverb with you...

"A heart in love with beauty never grows old."

How true and evident this is as I explore street after street in Istanbul...

Namaste,

Marianne

More Encounters in Istanbul

2009-06-22T14:00:00.003-07:00

June 22

More Encounters in Istanbul

2009-06-22T14:00:00.001-07:00

June 22

More Encounters in Istanbul

2009-06-22T13:56:00.001-07:00

More Encounters in Istanbul

2009-06-22T13:55:00.000-07:00

Sights Around Istanbul

2009-06-22T09:50:00.000-07:00

June 23

What follows are photos taken on Day One in Istanbul. I will write more about each one after dinner this evening...

Almost midnight...

Istanbul is a very "alive" city. Socializing ranks as a very high priority, and Gottfried, our fearless leader who seems to have written a book about just about everything, tells us that meals usually take 2-3 hours. A group might start with some appetizers, have a little raki (which is a popular Turkish drink that smells like anise), have a few more appetizers, have some more raki, have some fish, some bread, etc... And this cycle can go on from one in the afternoon until 9 pm or so, he tells us. Eating slowly and truly enjoying the time and the meal together is central to daily life here.

Practicing this custom, we had dinner tonight at Yesil Ev Restaurant. This was a much more free-wheeling, casual sort of dining establishment than we attended last evening with our terrace view restaurant. This place is located along one of the alleyways, and the eighteen of us sat at one long table. Gottfried orderd a variety of appetizers again, and the spread was absolutely splendid. For those of you who know how much I love world foods, I have decided that the Turkish cuisine and I could become very intimate friends! The food is simple, made with lots of organically grown fruits and vegetables in the region. My newest favorite is anything made with eggplant or walnuts. Ah, my food obsessive compulsive disorder is in high gear, so I will move on to other parts of this amazing journey...

The photo above represents one of the sights we encountered as we drove from the airport into central Istanbul yesterday. You'll notice the many frieghters in the harbor. People are simply gathered out on the rock. Some were fishing, but most looked like they were just enjoying the view, the day, the beautiful Istanbul sunshine...

Arrived in Istanbul

2009-06-21T21:41:00.000-07:00

"I see my path, but I don't know where it leads... Not knowing where I'm going inspires me to travel it..." -Rosalia de Castro

June 22, 2009

I would like to begin this journey by dedicating this Turkey blog to Paul Maxim, a young man very familiar with the joy that adventure can bring to one's life. Paul is the son of Sandy, a beloved friend of mine. Sadly, Paul is no longer with us. He lost his life in a skateboarding accident, engaged in the passion that most propelled his life. He leaves behind a legacy of a free spirit and a family that loves him dearly. A special embrace goes out to Pete, Paul's twin, who is finding the world to be a strange and lonely place without Paul. My heart to Sandy and her whole family in this time of such sadness. There will be a funeral service for Paul at St. John Student Parish in East Lansing on Thursday afternoon. I thank both Father Joe and Father Mark, in advance, for the guidance and the comfort that they will offer to family and friends. I am sorry I will not be able to be there to sing Paul into the heavens...

Dear Sandy... my heart to you.

"Life is either a great adventure or nothing..." -Helen Keller

******************************************************************************

With less than four hours sleep the last 48 hours, I am going to begin with images of Istanbul thus far. I'm not sure my mind is awake enough to connect them, but I don't want to wait to post because wifi access here at the Troya Hotel is somewhat sporadic. A few folks on this Turkey Fulbright have spent time in China, too, and it would be appropriate to say that internet access is "ma ma hoo hoo" (not great, not awful) at this point.

First impression...
Driving along what I think was the Bosphorous yesterday, Sunday afternoon, as we left the airport. Clusters of people gathered along the water, many with small grills, preparing a picnic lunch for themselves and their family and friends. For miles and miles, people everywhere, with cars parked in somewhat mangled bunches along the road. And everywhere, there are hammocks... some permanant in the park area, perhaps, but most seemed to be set up by each group of people. Small children swinging one another in the hammocks. Adults reclining, sleeping or just gently swinging. Lovers leaning against trees, just cuddling, not necessarily looking at the water, but each other.

Nothing seems to be "straight" here in Istanbul. The roads are curved, the streets are curved, there are inclines everywhere, and even the flower plantings are in "s" curves along the median and along the sides of the road. There are marigolds, which reminded me of the women in Nepal who greeted us with lias created from hours of sewing blossoms into a circle of flowers with a needle and thread. There seem to be geraniums, too, planted along the road, but I'll need to get a closer look before knowing for sure.

Eggplant, kabobs, walnuts, and all types of fish line the alley marketplaces. We were treated to a dinner with a most spectacular terrace view last night at 360 Istanbul Istiklal restaurant. The restaurant was on the 8th floor of a building, with a terrace setting that overlooked the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sofia. Some very aggressive birds perched around us, one even swooping inside the restaurant. Much larger than pigeons.... We even saw some kind of birds hovering outside the hotel, a beautiful luminescent white bird, dancing in the sky right in front of the hotel.

Jeff, one of the members on this trip, called his first taste of one of the appetizers served an "explosion of flavors in the mouth." Olives and eggplant and walnuts all wrapped in a shell, and it truly did explode in your mouth. Several baskets of bread, too, were replenished on the table. My family knows that I most certainly could live and thrive on bread alone. The most delicious was the double layer of carmelized onions and olives baked onto a soft white bread. As many of you know, I love to experiment with new tastes, so I tried a summer shish kabob along with a thyme salad and an eggplant puree nested in a stiff phllo dough surrounded by sesame seeds. The thyme salad was almost entirely thyme, mixed with tomatoes and a balsamic vinegar. Delicious... I will move on from the culinary exploits so that I do not become fixated...

After dinner, Patricia, my roommate and I , explored the area. We were told to always take a left out of the hotel door, as going down to the right would lead us to a rather "seedy" area where drugs are exchanged. Shop owners are in competition for business, and many own terrace restaurants. There are many tables along the street, and it was a thriving Sunday evening filled with people of all ages walking and talking. Patricia told me that she had read an article that the Turkish people are the 4th most social in the world, devoting much time to socializing and simply walking and talking with friends. Men and women are very affectionate with same sex, too, and it is not unusual to see men and women walking along holding hands or with arms connected as they walk along with their same sex friends. There is a casualness and friendliness here that is vibrant, alive, and very palpable.

Back to shop owners... many will approach you along the walkway, which has been redesigned to be free of cars. There is a trolly/streetcar sort of vehicle in the center... an embrace to you, dear Blanche DuBois! The quote of the evening has to be this one: "I have a lovely chair that is waiting for your bottom," a Turkish man said to me as he tried to get us to sit down at his establishment. Patricia and I supposedly have our entire "dance card" full for tomorrow evening, as we made many promises of "tomorrow." Because we had just eaten a full dinner, we weren't hungry. However, many of the shop owners gave us their business cards and said, "You promise to come back tomorrow? Yes?"

We did finally get escorted to one of the terrace restaurants by a very friendly gentleman who offered a round of drinks on the house. There was a traveling trio of musicians... and my daughter Annelise will be excited to hear that one of them was a clarinet player. Another played guitar, and a third played a stringed instrument that resembled a Russian belalaika. They had very much a klezmer kind of sound as they strolled from table to table serenading customers. Across the alley there was a disco club, which opened at ten. We also saw a Salsa/hip hop dance club along one of the avenues.

We need to get downstairs for the hotel breakfast. So, I will close for now, knowing that I will have many new images to report when we chat again... We are going to meet with the Armenian Patriarchate , His Excellency MesropII, this morning. We will also be visiting the Hagia Sofia, Hippodrom, Cistern, and Blue Mosque today. An ambitious day, as they all will be, I think...

I wish you a day filled with the easy friendliness of the Turkish people...

Tekrar gorusuruz...

Namaste,
Marianne

One Week to Istanbul...

2009-06-13T18:31:00.000-07:00

June 13, 2009

Merhaba, dear friends...

Thinking Out Loud
by Marianne

At the Firefly Jazz Club
in Ann Arbor
a miniature lights
smokeless bistro sort of place
that feels more like new age
than guttural, dusty jazz,
I met a couple from Turkey
And I wonder if everyone there
is as beautiful as they are...

Coffee skin, warm,
moist with years of Istanbul humidity
hair clumped in gray curls
dreadlocks almost
and eyes soft and intense, singing,
telling me of the jazz festival
in their home
in Istanbul
all of June and segueing into July...

A beautiful place
for visitors,
he tells me,
But a hard, difficult city
to live in.
You'll see what I mean
when you are there
in the streets
the traffic crowding you
into closeness...

And the woman
tells me of Cappadocia
and how I must see the stars
there
in this place with such a sky
so few lights
how you'll never believe
how many stars
are in our Turkish sky...

And I was thinking about last summer
and walking in the rain
in Guiyang, China
after karaoke and a shared beer,
knowing I long for another night
under a foreign sky.
I want to hear Turkey
whisper to me
over and over again
under a starry Cappadocia sky...

A week from today, I will arrive in Istanbul, Turkey. Traveling with 15 teachers via a Fulbright-Hays Program, I'll be immersed in Turkish culture for approximately 4 1/2weeks. Our schedule is rich, ambitious, and textured with visits to many mosques, amazing historical sites, and places that I know will remind me that I need to keep breathing...

All of us met at the University of Michigan a couple weeks ago for a weekend orientation workshop. The session began with an essay test: there are nine topics from which to choose, Gottfried told us, and we were to select six. My initial thought was, are they trying to discover my stupidity about Turkey? In my days on the student side of the classroom, I remember Turkey as "the place where East meets West," and beyond that, I had only a map of Turkey in my head. I have much to learn...

Between the guest professors sharing many aspects of Turkey with us, the trip to Ann Arbor's Turkish Ayse's Cafe, and a two night stint at The Firefly Jazz Club where we met a couple from Turkey, I am now thoroughly entranced with the many gifts Turkey has to offer.

I have been fortunate to work with two students from Turkey this past year at the middle school where I teach in East Lansing, Michigan: Babur and Seyda. Babur's quick wit and very natural sense of humor, along with an excellent sense of comedic timing, kept us amused and filled with his light spirit all year. Seyda, filled with passion for the power of language, drew us all in with her lyrical and starkly honest poetry. There is a small possibility that I may be able to visit Babur in Turkey, as his family goes on holiday to their summer place outside Istanbul.

This week I will commit to memory several Turkish phrases that will help communication. I also plan to travel lightly... and for those who know me, you know how difficult this is for me to do. I don't anticipate the need for my usual "comfort food" jar of peanut butter I usually take overseas, as I think my stomach will be more than satisfied with lamb kabobs, baklava, and hazelnuts. Already occupying their place in my suitcase are the bookmarks my students designed. The bookmarks will be gifts, celebrating and honoring new friendships in Turkey. A special thanks to my students who might be reading this blog...

A country's proverbs are often a very significant path to understanding, and, often, cross-cultural similarities. I've been reading many Turkish proverbs, and I would like to end this first entry with one of my favorites thus far:

"...Having two ears and one tongue, we should listen twice as much as we speak..."
-Turkish Proverb

And with those words of wisdom, I will say Iyi geceler, goodnight. I look forward to much listening and learning in Turkey...

P.S. As I was reading Turkish proverbs, I also came across this one...
"...An ass does not appreciate fruit compote."
-Turkish Proverb

And so it goes...