I’m sitting in a 130-year-old
Greek style home in Mustafa Paşa with my window open listening
to a man chanting his evening prayers over the loudspeakers from the
minaret. A minaret is a tower that juts
out of the side of a domed mosque to lead people in a call to worship Allah. It looks much like a skinny #2 pencil with
megaphones near the top. The song is one
of the most beautiful I’ve heard so far—it has passion and adoration behind
it. Those words fit Turkey well—I see it
in almost everything I’ve experienced whether that be in sight, sound, or
taste. What I’m learning is that this
passion doesn’t come without a price—the Turks have fought for their modern
nationhood for many many years. And even
today thousands gather in Tahrir Square in downtown Istanbul to protest the
current Prime Minister’s leadership (or to many—corruption). Ironic how Tahrir Square is located on Istiklâl Avenue (a
busy hub in downtown Istanbul). The word
Istiklâl means independence, freedom, and liberty in Turkish, and its just that
which is being stifled by the tear gas and rubber bullets being fired into
crowds of “protestors”—or people who were literally just picnicking in
fashionable clothing the first days of the “riots”. The government has been projecting an image
of unpatriotic disobedient dissidents when really they are everyday citizens
demanding that corruption would stop among the business and bureaucratic
elite. I hope that the protests are
resolved by the time we arrive in Istanbul the 17th, but it’s very
cool to be living in the history of Turkey—this could literally change things
for the country.
I’m beginning to realize what a
commitment it is to write in this blog.
We see, listen, and learn so much in a given day that its hard to really
convey what’s happening with much justice that I feel daunted by the sitting
down to write—but write I must so I can relive this one month for many years to
come.
Yesterday was absolutely, utterly,
undeniably, unforgettably remarkable. We went to the Atatürk’s home which is
out of a fairy tale. There are pieces of
furniture given to the Atatürk from Kings, Sultans, and Presidents from all
over the world. We were standing amid
the dining room table where decisions that have affected the lives of millions
of Turks in the last century happened.
The level of ornamentation and devotion to protecting the national
hero’s home preserved was astounding—I’m curious to know how it compares to our
own White House.
Of course we made a quick stop to
see the Turkish Lush JUST for me. J They have all of
the same stuff there we have except for a moisturizer called British
Nanny. I didn’t want it though. I did however buy some of the newer
fragrances. #girlscream
From there we went to the
Parliament Building and sat in the visitors section where the over 500 members
of Parliament sit to decide what laws will exist to govern the nation. I wish I wasn’t called out on being drowsy
from Jet-lagness—but the dude bored me.
Boom, there I said it.
We then had an appointment to meet
with the Secretary General of the equivalent to our Supreme Court. We walk in to sit among the most pristine
desks with a plate of cookies and water to drink. Then, the Secretary General walks in with a
translator and sits at the head of the table.
He proceeds to explain to us about the judicial system here in Turkey and
has an amazing sense of humor. He’s so
gracious to us too—the çay comes rolling in and then a plate of frozen white
gets placed before us. Like honey, this
ice cream deserves to have an entire blog entry about it. Gökhan awes about the food because it is such
a specialty and is such a gesture of generosity. It is a special ice cream that is made from
goat milk. I’m sure my parents are
squirming in their seats reading about this because they’re a little particular
about which creatures’ udders they drink from.
I don’t think I could do it justice describing it because it was light
and yet rich, cold and yet made you feel warm—hence my belief that this was
actually witchcraft.
After our ice cream we walked in
to the equivalent of our Supreme Court chamber where they have tried high
profile criminals and evaluated laws to govern the people. The Secretary General invited us to sit in
any of the justices’ seats. We were
shocked and a bit apprehensive, but he explained that these seats are that
which they’ve been entrusted with and that they will be given up again to
another person when their time is finished—they are the peoples’ chairs. So, we got a big group picture of us sitting
in the seats and even in the seat reserved for the Prime Minister. Oh you should know that there are two highly
elected officials in the country—The Prime Minister and the President. The Prime Minister functions more like our
President and the President seems to have a function of a vice-president and a
figurehead monarchy combined into one democratic role. Something should be noted here—we are doing
things that the vast majority of Turks NEVER get to do. Its all been arranged by Gökhan through the
incredible connections he has having served a seat in parliament for a term. He is one of the most sincere and best men
I’ve had the honor of meeting. I give
him a hard time, but in my heart of hearts I respect and admire his life
greatly.
Today we travelled to Cappodocia—a
city/region to the southeast of Ankara.
We passed along the 2nd largest salt lake in the world
(bigger than Utah’s lake), and I got to practice some bartering skills that
have grown rusty over the years, but still get the job done. I think I could teach a class on being cheap
in a foreign country—2 steps: 1.) always act disinterested 2.) tell them “I pay
____ and nod your head.” If they say no….repeat steps with perhaps a slightly
higher number in the blank. Boom—there you go!
Oh one thing I HAD to remember to
write about was the way the short wheat looked blowing in the wind on the hills
of Cappodocia. It was breathtaking. I could have sat in a field and watch the
ocean like fields toss the tips of the grass over the one next to it like a
wave on the sea. It held me captivated
for several minutes just watching it flow over and over again as we drove down
the road.
We saw some of the craziest rocks
today too! They were like towers jutting out of the ground because of the way
they eroded. We also saw these caves
where early Christians living in the Roman empire were forced to live—it was
law that Christians couldn’t live on the same level as other people, they had
to live underground. That’s at least
what our tour guide told us and I potentially mixed up because I’ve been too
busy being an artist snapping photos.
When we arrive to our hotel we
were all just completely astonished to find it much like a Tuscan Villa and a
grand castle combined. I am sleeping in
an archway with a chandelier hanging over my bed—what the what!? I realized
when I woke up from a horrible dream within 5 minutes of falling asleep that
this place was the perfect candidate for a movie like Paranormal Activity to
have been written about. I’m alone, in a
stone building over 130 years old and I had a dream that someone was standing
at the foot of my bed watching me. Ahh!
Pee pants!
I’m missing so many details about
our days that I feel absolutely guilty for not being able to write about. We had dinner last night and I ordered Raki
(the double size of course) and when I thought I was getting red wine I got
anise liquor similar to the Greek Üzo.
If you know anything about Trent McFalls you know he despises the taste
of licorice. Did he drink it anyway and
get a little drunk for his meandering walk back up the steep hill to the hotel?
Heck yes he did. Then, did he have more
wine on the patio with other beautiful people? Heck YES he did.
Okay, its almost time for
breakfast and that’s my favorite thing about living so I gotta go get ready for
it. I’ve received no emails hearing
about your lives so I’m going to assume that you’re doing well—but please…don’t
make me assume because…well…you know the adage.
J
I love you.
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