Snapshots of Istanbul

ISLAM

Turkey is politically secular, but considering how negatively the religion is viewed in the States, it was a remarkable opportunity to see a five-day snapshot of life in a country in which 99% of the population is Muslim. Michelle and I estimate that approximately 65% of the women wore hijabs. A few women wore burkas, but according to my guidebook, they are typically tourists from other Arab countries. (Tourists in burkas seemed strange and funny. Clearly, I have my own stereotypes about this chunk of the world.) Obviously, mosques were everywhere, and Christianity could take a lesson from the Muslims on making a gorgeous, tasteful place of worship. As Islam forbids the depiction of Mohammed or the other holy figures, considering it idolatry, the overkill of gaudy altars, overbearing sculptures and tasteless use of gold that is ubiquitous to European cathedrals is absent, instead replaced with tile. Deep blues, bright greens, and crimson reds create swirls of geometric and nature-inspired patterns cover the high domed ceiling to create a beautiful, inspiring, serene space. Shoes are not permitted, but the floors are carpeted.

Michelle and I were typically out and about for two or three of the five daily calls to prayer. As the melodic vocation sounded out from the nearest mosque, the calls from the others in the vicinity would mingle through with similar but slightly offset, slightly different intonation. It was almost harmonic and almost dissonant, eerie, haunting, and beautiful.

MONUMENTS

Aside from mosques, we visited two major monuments: the Hagia Sophia, and the Topkapi Palace. The Hagia Sophia was huge, dark, and impressive, more appealing from the outside than from within. It was made interesting by the contrast of the Christian and Islamic elements, and of course by its historical significance, but was otherwise not as appealing as the mosques or the palace.

The best part of the Topkapi Palace was the harem, room after room entirely decorated in the same style as the mosques: with beautiful, vibrant tile.

INDULGENCE

First, the essential: food and drink. Fresh pomegranate juice on every block, squeezed to order. Salep, a hot, thick, sweet, milky, spiced drink. Ayran, a refreshing mix of yogurt, sparkling water, and salt. Turkish coffee, sweet and strong. Fresh fried fish sandwiches, fried fish everything and anything else, mussels stuffed with rice on the pier, 2 for a lira. Meze, appetizers of marinated vegetables and spreads with bread, and raki, a strong anise-flavored liquor that turns milky white in water. Kebabs and kebab plates, roasted meats piled up alongside heaps of vegetables, yogurt, and pilaf. Yogurt topped liberally with fresh honey, unfiltered to include waxy bits of honeycomb. Indulgent baklava dripping with honey syrup, candied pumpkin, and custard resembling rice pudding. Turkish Delight, a dessert-candy with a gelatinous honey base mixed with nuts.

 

On my birthday, we went to a historic Turkish bath. We changed into a black pair of underwear, provided by the bathhouse, then entered the round, hot women's room and laid down on our towels on the large stone center. After we had worked up a sweat, an attendant came to each of us and drenched us with warm water, then scrubbed down our bodies. Mounds of bubbles were poured over us, and we were completely bathed. After rinsing off and relaxing in the bath, we got full-body oil massages. Not for the shy, nor for those unable to ignore the strangeness of someone else...washing them, but with those thoughts cast aside, it was blissful.

The next day, we stopped at a cafe near our hostel for some hookah. The guy who worked there bore an uncanny resemblance to Jonah Hill and teased us mercilessly. There, I believe I experienced one of the greatest convergences of sensory pleasure of my entire life: petting the small kitten curled up in my lap, drinking tea, and smoking hookah.

CATS

They're everywhere, but unlike Granada's strays, who are almost all skittish and often mangy or malnourished, these cats were affectionate, healthy, and well-fed. Michelle and I spent a good chunk of each day distracted by particularly cute, cuddly, or playful specimens.

PICK-UP LINES

From mildly corny to doused in cheese, all hilarious. "You dropped something." "What?" "My heart." A sesame-seed heart sprinkled on the large, pillow-like bread that came with the kebab plate. "Españolas? Chicas guapas," from vendor after vendor, although we hadn't mentioned anything about our residency, temporary or permanent. "Sexy," from a 16-ish kid blasting bhangra-like music on pocket speakers. "You want to eat at my restaurant? No? You have a boyfriend?" from the most professional of the restaurant workers. "Ooh, very clean girls," the awkward, yet accurate comment from a man who could apparently sense that we had just taken our Turkish bath.

BAZAARS

When we weren't eating, seeing major sights, or petting cats, we were wandering around bazaars and through quirky shopping districts. There were loads of streets lined with stores selling funky jewelery, hippie clothes, traditional and modern instruments, and art. There were two main bazaars: first, the Grand Bazaar, the largest covered market in the world, which primarily sells jewelery, clothing, ceramics, and silverware (to tourists). If I could remotely justify the cost of shipping a huge, delicate item to the US, I would have bought one of these lamps.

The other is known as the Spice Bazaar, which also sells tea and Turkish Delight (to tourists) before spilling out to a crammed, hectic food market selling vegetables, fish, meat, olives, and cheese, then further out, miscellaneous wares from grills, pots, and kitchen appliances to collections that resemble the random selection in a dollar store.

BARGAINS

As well as restaurants, all of these stores and market booths aggressively recruit their business, and haggling is ubiquitous. The funniest part was that any time I would mention that the same product was being sold for far cheaper elsewhere--sometimes honestly, sometimes to see what would happen--the immediate response was that it was a fake, that it was terrible, that they were lying to me. All we had to do is pause outside of a store (and sometimes not even that) to encounter an enthusiastic shopkeeper urging us to look inside, to see his wares, to make you a deal. Restaurants were the worst: waiters followed us down the street, trying each language in turn to see what would work. They would try to start conversation, usually asking us where we were from.

I had a straightforward attitude to all of this: if someone asked me if I wanted their product, I smiled and shook my head, and if they kept pressing me, which they usually did, the smile dropped from my face, I emphatically said no, and kept walking. Michelle considered that rude, which is fair, although I disagree. I realize that by visiting this country, just as was the case with Morocco, I'm opening myself up to this aggressive tourist-baiting; regardless, from my cultural bias, I'll probably never stop thinking that a stranger ignoring that no means no is about the rudest thing on the planet. When we visited the Asian side, which is less touristy, we were pleased by the relief from these aggressive vendors.

CONCLUSION

Istanbul in one word: color. Rainbow mounds of spices, Turkish Delight, kebab platters, tiles, ceramics and hanging lights, hijabs, scarves, maroon pomegranate juice--the colors spill out of the mosques and explode through the city. A wonderful balance of relaxation and sensory delight, exploration, culture, and history, all very easy on the wallet thanks to the favorable exchange rate. I could have easily spent twice the time in the city, exploring the different neighborhoods we didn't have time to see, and surrounding area. I'm about as bad at picking favorites as I am good at making lists, but I think this is my new favorite European (well, Eurasian) city. After traveling, I always have a moment of discouragement, because each place I visit adds at least 10 more to my dream travel list. What a planet...