Mustafa Kemal Ataturk

Eighty five years ago today, the Republic of Turkey was proclaimed from the capital in Ankara. From the corner of my balcony on the Asian side of Istanbul I awoke to scores of red flags  hanging from apartment windows, poles, shops and even draped across the backs of people walking down the street…the air is simply swirling with national pride.

Tonight Bagdat Caddesi will be closed to vehicular traffic from 7pm and an energy packed celebration will take place up and down the Asian sides most trendy boulevard. If you want to see Turk nationalism at its best…this is the place to be.

I guess 555 years has a way of diluting the history of conquest and defeat. Today, May 29th, marks the anniversary of the conquest of Constantinople, the defeat of the Byzantium Empire and the death of Constantine XI. Yesterday I took a walk along Theo’s famous wall and tried to imagine the difference 5 centuries can make.

In May of 1453 while the death throes were already shuddering through the fading Byzantine Empire and Constantinople’s fate had probably already been sealed…it wasn’t so much the heat of battle that caused the breaching of Theodosius’s famous land wall. It was the simple fact that a gate, possibly obscured by rubble, had been left unlocked. The Kerkoporta Gate on the northern portion of the land wall and not too far from the Golden Horn was soon discovered by the Ottomans to be unsecured. They flooded through the gate and into the streets, Constantinople was overrun and the Ottoman Empire began its amazing rise.

If you want a taste of the history you can take the train from Sirkeci to YediKule station and visit the YediKule Zindanlari Museum…yesterday we had it all to ourselves and from my post on top of the walls I can report to you that for today–all is well.

There’s an old Moorish proverb that says “He who does not travel does not know the value of men”…I can relate to that sentiment. I love this city of Istanbul, its history, its food and beauty…but most of all I love its people. As you have heard me say over the past few years—we have never felt more welcome than living among Turks. While I still butcher the language and stretch the seemingly endless patience of our Çevre, we have fallen into a corner of Asia where I feel content to just sit and live…with some exceptions.
We have crisscrossed Turkey more than a dozen times the last few years and no matter what town, village or nomadic encampment we have visited and imposed upon, we find a thread of Turkish complexion that runs clear through from border to border…Turks are simply people of quality. They love to talk, laugh, eat and visit; they just like hanging out and getting into the details of each other’s lives.

Our doorbell rings all day long with neighbors and friends dropping in to chat and the food never seems to stop. Whenever one of the older women in our neighborhood cook special Turkish dishes they call Ann to come and learn…every week plates of food flow back and forth from their kitchens to ours and vice versa…tough life, I know.
While I am pretty well set with my balcony view of Minibus Yolu and the comings and goings of our friends, neighbors and food, I simply long to wander…which leads me, finally, to the point of today’s thoughts.
The expedition season is upon us and my gypsy juices started flowing this week as we began our plans for our summer wanderings across Asia Minor. In a few weeks we will head to Taurus Range to weave our way into the mountain villages and see if we can catch up with the locals. Next, Konya will be our base as we explore the ancient seat of the Great Seljuk Turkish Empire. The area is home to scores of ancient caravansaries, Mosques and Churches and some of the world’s oldest settlements.
All of which brings me back to the words of a forgotten Moor—whether in Istanbul or the rugged outback of Turkey, we have learned the value of the people of Turkey…they are simply Priceless.

For a great insight into nomadic hospitality check this from Today’s Zaman http://www.todayszaman.com/tz-web/detaylar.do?load=detay&link=142870

May 19th is a big deal in Turkey commemorating the start of the War for Independence. I find that ironic, because today is another “May 19th” that is going to be remembered for a long time…this one for restricting a freedom that many Turks have enjoyed without restraint.  That of lighting up a smoke whenever and wherever the mood hit.

Starting today public smoking is being frowned upon in this great nation of nicotine loving Turks.  Already banned in airports and large offices today the ban sweeps into its purview the small shops, parks, entertainment venues and extends even to the ferries and taxis that troll throughout the metropolis. An estimated 15 million packs of cigarettes (300 million smokes) are  inhaled each day in Turkey.

Being a non-smoker it took some time to get used to the second hand smoke I was inhaling when we first landed here a few years ago.  Now when returning to Istanbul from abroad there is nothing that makes me feel more  “at home”  than the smell of cigarettes as soon as we step out of the airport.

I know…its bad for me, bad for you,  bad for all of us. I get it. I am not advocating smoking. However, when I see things that have been culturally endeared to me pass away there is an element of grief I experience. I cannot count the times that a Fiat-wielding taxi driver has held out a pack of smokes to me as he weaved and dodged through Istanbul’’s infamous traffic, before lighting up himself. The scent of tobacco has become synonymous with the Turkish hospitality that has courted and overwhelmed us during our time in Asia Minor.

No doubt we will all be much healthier and able to worry about whatever great health risk becomes popular in the future. For now though I am not too worried, once I see the ashtrays on the treadmills at the local sports salon go…I will know that the restrictions are here to stay.

Leaving Istanbul

This particular journey was not on “The” Orient Express itself, but rather the Dostluk Filia, an overnighter run to Greece. We had booked two sleeping compartments and we’re looking forward to being caressed to somnolence as we journeyed across western Turkey and into Greece. We were comfortably settled in as we made our way out of Istanbul and into the setting sun.

West of Bakirkoy

This night would prove to be one of the most wretchedly enchanted evenings of my life. A journey through the midnight hours racked by jerks, stops, sways, mosquitoes, and the repeated rapping at our door for passports and inspections. Making our way across borders that are less than “Filial” (as our tickets proclaimed) was an unexpected ordeal.

The ancestral tension between these neighbor countries was the

cause of our involuntary insomnia. No sooner than starting off from a Custom’s checkpoint, turning out the lights and snuggling down, we would feel the deceleration of the train and…soon…the porter’s rap at the door with the monotone proclamation of “Passaporta Control”. He would be followed by the respective border officials who would politely enter our small compartment, inspect our baggage or collect our passports, and return an hour later to send us off on another cruel hoax that sleep was before us. Over a 3 hour period we had stopped no less than four times for baggage inspections, security checks, and passport control.

Our last checkpoint had been two hours ago and we were sleeping soundly when the sun began to rise bringing unwanted temptation to look out the window. I had resisted the impulse to peek, when a loud voiced woman of unmentioned Mediterranean extraction began to look for her (no doubt fearful) husband. I don’t know if she ever found “George” but everyone on our car knew he had gone missing…or into hiding. By the time she had flushed him out, stopped screaming his name, and rattling doors (ours included), we were fully awake, if not quite coherent.

Nescafe was the best we could procure, but with the views out the window, the rattle of the tracks and the romance of the journey, Starbucks could not have improved on the moment. In fact if I had been able to conjure up one of Sb’s concoctions I don’t know if I could have handled the nostalgic sentiment with masculine dignity

Sitting there as fields, villages and churches swept past our window in the early morning sun fueled my passion for wandering. During one brief stop we watched as an elderly woman swept off the walkway to her villa with a short handled broom, bent over at the waist, left hand pressed against the small of her back, hiding her feet in small clouds of dust. To have had the chance to sit in her kitchen, (while something with garlic simmered away on an old stove), and listen to her talk of life, love and hope is the stuff that makes me wander. I wanted to ask her about those she had loved, the children she had raised and whether there were things at her old age, for which she still hoped and prayed. Our budding friendship evaporated in a cloud of dust from her walkway as our train pulled out of the station and out of her life.

I love the pursuit of investing in people’s lives: Their past, triumphs, failures, and purpose, are things that capture my attention and passion. I guess I am addicted to the “Gist of Lives”, how we live and what we do with our limited time on earth compels me to ask those who have lived longer than me…to tell their secrets. We have been the beneficiary of many of these exchanges…it has given us an affluence of soul to invest again and again.

We pulled into Thessaloniki over two hours late. A quick trip to our hotel by cab, the fortune of an early check in, hot showers, and a tooth brush set us up for a long nap in the cool of a dark, air conditioned room.

When we finally stumbled to the window in mid afternoon, opened the door, and stepped out onto our veranda, we were greeted by the Gulf of Thermaikos just yards from our room. A blast of Macedonian heat hit us and we reveled in its intensity. It seemed a perfect ending to the first entry in my new Moleskine Diary.

Waiting for the Train in Greece

A journey that started in Asia aboard a rail line soaked in mystery, intrigue and murder, a sleeping compartment that allowed no slumber, and now the heat soaked climate of our Aegean destination with its Macedonian past and Euro-Med present, seduced this family of four. We realized once again that we were made to do this thing that we are doing…Living, Traveling and Wandering on the Far Side of the World.

I am working for a Getty Institute Summer Programme that takes place in Istanbul with a special emphasis on art history and thanks to the programme, I had the pleasure to meet Robert S. Nelson who is the writer of Hagia Sophia, 1850-1950 : Holy Wisdom Modern Monument and who is a Rice gradute (hopefully like me if i finish my ph.d one day). We had a field trip to Hagia Sophia and although it was my third visit in the last three summers, with Prof. Nelson’s guidance, this has become the most informative one…

I have never visited Sogukcesme Street, just behind Hagia Sophia, whose preservation story is told by Zeynep Çelik here. Honestly, this street looks so artificial, so theme-park like that, I don’t see I will need to see it again…

The exhibition is the culmination of a six-month effort by the museum’s experts and will feature never-before-displayed pieces.

Speaking at a press conference on Monday the museum’s director, historian İlber Ortaylı, said some of the items to be put on show were from the Topkapı Palace Museum’s warehouse and spanned a period from the 16th to 20th centuries.

He said among the pieces are hairdressing sets and personal care items as well as objects used by sultans from Beyazıt II to Ahmet III, including a gold ewer, a golden razor and the bath faucets of Sultan Abdülhamid II.

Ortaylı said the sultans’ Turkish bath plan from the palace’s archive dated back to 1511 and was one of the most significant pieces on display. It is also a response to those who claim that the Ottomans built without a coherent plan.

“This exhibition, which we hope will be an occasion for museum lovers to see artworks which have never been displayed before, is devoted to former director Filiz Çağman, who devoted herself to the Topkapı Palace Museum,” Ortaylı said.

The exhibition will feature 130 pieces, 80 percent of which were taken from the palace’s warehouse. The pieces were restored just for the exhibition, which features washcloths, marble basins, ewers and miniatures depicting the shaving process as well as illustrated text providing historical information about the Turkish bath tradition. The exhibition catalogue, sponsored by Akbank, will be distributed to all libraries.

The exhibition will be open until July 31 at the Topkapı Palace Imperial Treasury.

from : Turkish Daily News

TavelBite focuses on Nişantaşı: “The ultra-hip area of Nisantasi has long been one of the most desirable areas to stay in Istanbul, thanks to its haute couture shopping and great art….” Robert Haru Fisher writes for Frommer’s and offers a piece for would be travellers: Istanbul Delights: A Turkey Travelogue. In the mean time, Anya von Bremzen focuses on Istanbul’s Food and Wine stuff.