Turkey

We are back once again in our friendly Sultanahmet hostel in Istanbul where the narrow alleys share equal space with 5 star hotels, rug dealers and doner vendors. Tomorrow morning we head further West to Athens , spend two days there before taking a ferry to the island of Santorini for a much needed rest.

Last Saturday morning, after having arrived in the town of Pamukkale the day before, Tom woke up with excruciating pain in his left side and unable to keep any food or water down. I knew it was serious when at 6.00am he consented and let me call a doctor. Even at that time in the morning I found friendly hotel staff busy sweeping the courtyard and upon understanding my frantic…sick!…doctor!, a call was made to summon the local family doctor out of bed. Within the hour Doktor Sakir Bayur knocked on our door armed with the old physician’s bag which holds everything to check patient’s vital signs and administer basic lab tests. Enough anyway for Dr. Sakir to diagnose a kidney stone. Part of his diagnosis resulted from a test Tom may laugh about later but not yet today. During the exam the pretty good-sized and hefty doctor looked at Tom and while questioning‘“ Hurts” chopped him in the left kidney with enough force to leave Tom out of breath and stunned. My kidneys felt rattled just watching Tom’s pain. Dr. Sakir , wondering about Tom’s lack of response whacked him fitfully once more before Tom thankfully moaned out in pain. Armed with Tom’s passport he took off for the pharmacy and returned shortly with two shots and four other medications with instructions on how to take them and to return if pain stayed on for more than three days. His total bill for the house call, tests and all meds totaled to 210 lires, $ 140.00 Not bad and how great that in this ancient town the ancient art of healing still continues. The day before we had taken a tour of Pamukkale, a small town, nestled close by the ruins of Hierapolis and while in the far distance snow capped mountains can be seen, the purest whitest slope ever is at the end of the village street, at the bottom of the plateau where the ruins of Hierapolis can be wandered. Thermal spring waters have formed these fantastic formations of stalactites and the calcium deposits appear at times like frosted cakes with blue icing on top. The blueness is the mineral’s water absorption of the sky above. Our tour guide Ramadaz was very informative on the history of Hierapolis, first occupied by the Greeks, then the Romans before Byzantine’s and now Turkey’s influence. We have learned that when one does not speak the language and all explanatory signs are in the native tongue it pays to spend a little more, and join a tour to hear the history. More ancient ruins, cities, catacombs and history will certainly be displayed and divulged when we continue our travels in Greece and Italy but our tour of Hierapolis will always remain special through the sheer freedom of wandering it gave us and the color of the wildflowers dispersed throughout the hillside. It was the red of the poppies mixed with the purple, white and yellows of other flowers that more than the old stone spoke of: “ As it was in the beginning, is now”. At the top of Hierapolis the old theater can be found, extremely well preserved after all these centuries and earthquakes. The greatest gift any old theatre/arena can be given was granted here when a couple of months ago this Roman built Apollo Theater was the place for a rock concert. What a tribute and how right to not be afraid to use it properly.

Tom snoozed a couple of days in Pamukkale, sweating away his pain and discomfort and even the muezzins sky flooding invitations were not enough to waken his rest. During that time we were greatly taken care of by the Koray Otel family members. There could not have been a better place for Tom to have taken ill. The Otel is family run, with “Papa” the patriarch still close by the helm and throughout the day he would charmingly bring me flowers and fresh mint for my tea, always making sure that all our needs and wishes were met. His sons and daughters run the hotel while his many grandchildren play and learn. Whatever the family ate became our meal and without menus seen the fare was grand. In the morning endless baskets with crisp, fresh baked baguettes were served together with the standard Turkish/Mediterranean breakfast of sliced tomatoes, cucumber , boiled egg and various olives. On our tour of Pamukkale we met 5 South African women, a mother with her two daughters and their friends. It was while anxiously waiting for Tom’s recuperation that I learned that all four young women were medical doctors and sitting in our Otel’s courtyard they shared their insight and were able to explain more about the meds Tom was taking since through our inability of understanding Turkish not all was clear. While talking with them, the call of prayer was chimed through town and these young, very modernly dressed and Westerly educated female Muslim doctors pulled their scarves higher over their head and explained so much of their religion to me, It was to them I gave the book “Sweetness in the belly” and in gratitude they gave me the only book they had with them which was the Turkish to English 3500Word two-way dictionary. It has come in handy.

We decided to forego the scheduled trip to Ephesus after Pamukkale and instead after an extra day rest at the Koray Otel headed back to Istanbul. Tom bemoans the fact of missing The Artemis Temple and the House of the Virgin Mary in Ephesus because of his kidney stone and while I am sure they are a great site to see it would have meant missing getting to know the wonderful people of Pamukkale and their friendship. We took the overnight bus back to Istanbul on Monday evening. It is a shame to take those long rides during the night hours. They are very long, tedious and the dark shrouds the beautiful landscapes found throughout Turkey. Sleep is difficult to find anyway on the overnight bus rides with the interruptions for refreshments and bathroom use. There is no such thing as a free pee in Europe and we are close enough to Europe to have it already in practice here. Common fee for public bathroom use is 1 and means either 1 Lire, Euro or US dollar which is somewhat comical since their value is not at all alike. Throughout Turkey all three currencies are accepted and without following daily market fluctuations the prices are usually set like these; Ten postcards 1 Euro, $1.50 US or 2 Lira and that is quite close to what our exchange rate has been. When asking a vendor for a price and he holds up 5 fingers do not assume he means 5 lira because when money is handed over it suddenly becomes 10 lira since he was holding up Euro fingers!

We arrived back in Istanbul early Tuesday morning and Tom who had started to feel better had enough of a relapse in pain and discomfort that I took him to an Istanbul Hospital after another uncomfortable night. At the back of the Istanbul guide book all the hospitals are listed, all 16 of them and of course “ American Hospital “ jumped out. Even more so when the young Canadian man sitting next to me at the hostel downstairs while I am frantically trying to make contact with our insurance company, points out in the little book he carries “ Good hospitals worldwide“ that in Istanbul American Hospital tops the lists, the only one the list BTW. A taxi is called and Tom and I head to the American Hospital and upon arrival are a little mystified that all the signs are still in Turkish and every one keeps on speaking that language we do not understand and where are the Americans? We quickly are told that American is a name for the hospital ? So , what does that mean for all the other Istanbul hospitals by the other names: Armenian Hospital, Italian Hospital, International Hospital, German Hospital, Jewish Hospital, Florence Nightingale hospital and all the others. All kidding now aside, the Istanbul American Hospital is a hospital that any American city would proudly claim as its own. Tom’s treatment there these past two days has been admirable and the surgery to remove a lodged stone in his ureter could not have been performed better anywhere else. Nurse Fathima did her best to be understood and all failure was strictly our fault for our inability to not understand her language. As Tom’s
“ attendant” I received royal treatment including meals, showers and a good bed. Admissions/discharge worked with us and through any language barriers and we were so happy to learn that our primary American Blue Cross/Blue Shield was accepted and without delay paid with us only having to pay the much smaller co-payment due by our Travelers insurance which the Istanbul Hospital does not accept. Here all along we thought it would be our travelers insurance which would protect us but strangely that was the one not accepted.

It has been a week where al lot was learned. Walking through a sleeping village, waking up from its winter slumber while preparing for summer’s tourist onslaught is something I would not have wanted to trade. One learns a lot from a village and a country which sleepingly is arising to greatness. One truly learns a country and its people when misfortune happens and how it is dealt with. When we now hear the call to prayer we know why it is done five times. It is calculated according to the movement of the sun; the noon prayer time begins when the sun has just passed its zenith at one’s location and it therefore changes with seasons according to where one is in the world. Thus, there is not even a single moment without prayer being made throughout the world. Five stands for the pillars of profession, declaration of belief in God, obligatory prayer 5 times a day, the giving of charity, fasting from dawn to dusk during the month of Ramadan and the pilgrimage to Mecca once in a life time for those who have the means. What I will remember most are 5 South African women who explained when I asked them whether they needed to go to Mosque to pray when the muezzin called laughed and said they had an hour to find the place to pray and God did not live in buildings . It will be the words from Rifat Durune , from our Pamukkale hotel who upon our leaving was thanked for treating us as family and his simple reply:
“ That is what we are all called to be for each other”.

Tonight Tom is still a little sore but we are both very grateful for Turkey’s care of us both and its natural beauty. Reading through our little Turkish book we are slowly becoming wise to the language. One of our favorites is the numbers.
1 is bir (pronounced beer)
2 is iki(pronounced ee-kee)
See the fun that can be had while isolated in a small hospital room overlooking the great, ancient Turkish peninsula and the Bosphorous?

What we also learned is that gula-gula is an appropriate goodbye saying for those who are staying.
Those who are leaving say allahaismarladik

Tom and Els

While our plane from India carried us silently through the night over Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq and Syria before landing in Istanbul we read the book “Sweetness in the belly” by English author Camilla Gibb. While fiction, it beautifully crafts and transcends the boundaries defined by propaganda makers that pit Islam and the West against each other. It offered us an insight in the Muslim tradition we were previously unaware of and it now aids in understanding there where we are. Trading books all over the world with passing travelers has enriched our lives and kept money for other purposes. We have as of yet not been caught without a good read. In Phuket, Thailand on our way out of the door we came across the book ” America unchained” by Dave Goreman and a must read for our Kansas friends. The book in humorous details describes the journey an Englishman attempts in America, coast to coast, determined to not give any money to “the man”, staying away from big corporate franchises and only fraternizing the mom and pop businesses.

Our first Turkey sunrise was seen from the overnight Istanbul to Cappadocia bus and after a very long, sleepless night it was a welcome and beautiful sight to witness once again a bright red sun peeking over mountains. It was our first, clear sunrise in over a month since the sun is so overshadowed by smog in the Asian countries we have been. The overnight public buses in Turkey are quite comfortable, once one figures out which is the correct bus to board. We booked our Cappadocia trip through a travel agency associated with our Istanbul hostel and together with a large group of young travelers from all over the world we boarded a bus commandeered by a Turkish Al Pacino look alike who frantically tried to make us understand our transfers and who became quite frustrated when upon his order; “understand” all in unison shook their head. Being lost with the crowd is more freeing and enjoyable than being lost in the crowd and in great humor our trip to Cappadocia went under way. The bus ride is around 13 hours long and appears even longer if one has a cranky, old woman sitting behind you who is determined that you will be the only one on the bus not allowed to recline the seat. That was my luck and after an unsuccessful attempt to battle it out with sheer strength against 4 feet of veiled, distempered anger I used my wits and sweetly told the steward on board that my seat was broken and he put it in the reclined position under a barrage of angry retorts which continued with well placed kicks the rest of the trip.
Arriving and now spending three days in Cappadocia has been amazing. The area is set high above sea level and surrounded by the snow capped volcano’s whose eruptions formed this geological wonder. Spreading lava, together with lakes, formed a high plateau up to 100-150 meters in height. Today’s valleys were created through erosion and the harder, wider layer of rock on the top, called chimney rocks formed. Chimney rocks can be seen in other regions of the world but nowhere as densely formed as in Cappadocia. Human hands early on joined creation and carved these thick but pliable porous rocks and made them suitable for houses, monasteries, churches and underground shelters when protection was needed. Christianity settled in this region in the third century and a mystic monastery life began which lasted until the 12 th century when Islam took its place. The town of Gorame where we are staying in a delightful, family run, cave pension (Star Cave Hotel) is surrounded by hundreds of cave churches, all small and many used as schools before the 12 th century. We visited some and saw the ancient paintings on the walls which made them unsuitable for the Islam faith tradition. While some of the painting is very primitive and done by local church attendees many centuries ago, other church paintings are master pieces created by Roman artists. One of the cave churches we visited today, now well over 900 years since last used as a church, still carries in its domes and on its walls pictures of every biblical scene. These paintings have lasted through the years because of the natural make up of the paints. No chemicals were used since there was no existence of these in those times. The color red came from grapes, yellow saffron, blue ground lapis lazula, and green from ground shells. What will stand out more than anything we saw today was hearing a young Turkish, Muslim woman describe to us, in a very gentle voice, the biblical scenes portrayed so many years ago and still holding its color. What is equally amazing are how these formations, many years later, still offer its usefulness to the people who live here and not only as a tourist attractions. Centuries ago, human hands built pigeon houses and artfully built steps in the soft rock so that the pigeon droppings could be collected and spread as manure on the fields and around the grape vines. Today, these pigeon houses are still used for that exact same purpose and the wine, manufactured in the Cappadocia region is still stored inside the caves where the temperature is perfect without human intervention. As with all tours we have been a part of this past month, one does end up in the local industry and with their hopes up, cajoled into buying. In Cappadocia it was pottery and rugs and if we had the funds we gladly would have bought the pieces of craftsmanship we saw today. Even today, the red clay used for the pottery is still gathered from the river which runs through the region, and fitfully named the red river. It is the largest river in Turkey and flows into the Dead Sea. We have one more day here tomorrow and will use the time to hike around the region before boarding an overnight (drats) bus to Pamukkale region which also offers the beauty of natural wonders, this time in calcified, terraced hot pools.

Traveling these past couple of days with young people from Australia, New Zealand, Italy, Japan, China and Germany makes us realize how different it is to travel when there is at least 30 years difference in years. We listen to them and remember the ease with which we in the early seventies, as our young friends do now , threw on our backpack and the disregard we had then of where we would lay down our heads to rest at night and whom we had left behind. We require more rest, comfort and peace of mind now. In the book “ Sweetness in the belly” 6 year old Lilly asks her parents, nomad travelling hippies, why they have to move once again and her father’s answer is that staying in one place means that roots will be put down and roots grow. The child asks why that is so bad and the father’s reply; “It just makes the passage between places too painful. It’s all about the journey. You don’t want to spoil the journey by missing what you’ve left and worrying about where you are going”. If missing makes one a lesser traveler, we no longer are great travelers. Beyond missing our children’s presence we miss the normality of living life. The simple task of opening our own front door and finding the paper there and reading the news while enjoying a great cup of good brewed coffee. We now have spent many months in countries where tea is the norm. Our young traveling friends shared their journey time and we all bemoaned the noticeable inclined prices in Turkey and what can be expected when the Euro countries are reached. Some of our young friends were ready to head back to Asia where “ Life is cheap”. There are two ways to look at that statement depending on where the emphasis is placed.

Is life valued less there where lesser value is needed to live life?

Gule , Gule,
Tom and Els

We decided to hire a car and driver for the trip from Agra back to New Delhi airport to avoid having to deal with luggage and taxi’s twice plus the train ride and it was surprisingly close to the same price. For an extra 300 rupees, about US$6.00 the air condition would even be turned on. With a temp. of over 40 degrees Celsius that was a nice option to have and use. The car trip was not 4 hours, closer to 7 but we had allowed for plenty of time after seeing New Delhi’s traffic from close up the week before. The drive gave us an opportunity to observe life in India in the smaller towns. Not too many of the cow pictures we took turned out while many, many cows were seen walking by and on the road. We asked our driver; who took care of the cows, who fed them? We learned that the cows take care of themselves. They look overall quite well and happy as they saunter in front of cars and buses whose drivers take greater effort avoiding the cows than the pedestrians. After checking in at the airport and clearing immigration, India had one more surprise which did not sit well with foreign tourists, including us. With 3.000 rupees left, the equivalent of $60.00 we stood in line at the foreign exchange counter and were made aware that rupees could only be changed into another currency if one had an Indian passport. The same held for all the stores in the departure hall, including the ones selling Indian souvenirs/merchandise, rupees only for those with an Indian passport otherwise US dollars. The only exception was the coffee shop but how many cups should one drink before boarding a plane for a 6.5 hour flight to Istanbul. Moral of the story, get rid of your rupees before setting foot in the airport and do not buy too many.

In Istanbul foreign tourists have to buy a Visa upon arrival. No paperwork is filled out, no one asks how long or where one plans to stay in Turkey, all the visa entails is an exchange of money (Euros) for a pretty stamp in your passport. Mine, for a Dutch passport cost 10 Euros and the identical stamp affixed in Tom’s American passport cost 15 Euros. Payable with a credit card. While waiting for our luggage I tried to exchange Indian Rupees for Turkish Liras, and was not surprised when that did not work. Turkish liras could not even be bought with a credit/debit card at the exchange, cash for cash only, and the only ATM was once again outside. All we wanted at that time was a 1 lira or 1 euro coin since that was what would unlock the chained dolly’s and we needed one for our luggage before hauling it through customs. Sweet revenge came when we wondered if a coin…is a coin..is a coin, and stuck in a 2 Indian rupee coin (worth an American nickel) and lo and behold it worked!!!
Istanbul is an absolute, delightful city. People of all walks of life live together in the mystery of the East and the practicality of the West. Our hostel is on the Historical Peninsula, steps way from the walls of Topkapi Palace and a couple of cobble stone streets up from the Bosphorus Strait which connects the Black Sea with the Marmara Sea and divides Europe from Asia. It is there where we headed to upon arriving last week. It was a great place to sit and be while inhaling fresh sea air and smelling the flowers which can be found throughout the old city and beautifully offsets the old, grey stone from the ancient mosques and palaces. We spent the better part of our first day inside Topkapi Palace, which was built in the 15th century but like a living organism it continued to grow and change. The palace was turned into a museum in 1924 with many treasures and relics stored inside. It was interesting to see side by side the arm bones of John the Baptist and inside jeweled casing the beard of the Prophet Mohammed with on the opposite wall, the staff which Abraham used to part the Red Sea. The biggest building, with 8 domes, houses the rich collection of old weapons, many adorned with precious stones. We walked inside the council room where the government held their meetings at which the Sultan could not be present but could listen through a window opened on a high point of the Harem section and covered with a curtain. The Palace has been beautifully maintained and the grounds were ablaze with the many colors of blooming tulips and pansies. Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia are separated by a park where the tourists gather throughout the day and evening for tea, Turkish coffee and the great pastries from the many bakeries surrounding the square. The Blue Mosque is one of the most famous monuments of the Turkish and Islamic world and the only mosque built with six minarets. The interior is a big hall where the men still gather in prayer 5 times a day while the women kneel in a separate, enclosed area in the back. It is one of the mosques which wakens us each morning long before the sky’s lightening with the muezzins call. This ancient call to prayer beckons a sleeping city and throughout the day it is heard again, from all the mosques surrounding us. Prayer is part of the day, part of life and it does not disturb. We were outside the New Mosque during an afternoon prayer meeting and watched hundreds of men, as one, bow their heads to the floor and after rising, leave and continue on with their day before gathering again later in prayer. Hagia Sophia, once a Christian Church (for 926 years), a mosque for 481 years , now sustains its historical function as a museum. It served as an example, even if on the basis of ideas and it is a product of the synthesis of the West and East. Upon entering, high up a mosaic panel can be seen depicting Jesus and his mother and throughout Hagia Sophia there is blending of Christianity and Islam, wonderful to see.
Old Istanbul has lots of charm and walking the narrow cobbled-stoned streets even without stopping at the many museums, mosques, palaces and bazaars is highly entertaining. Many wares are displayed, especially the rugs and the walking- by tourists will be encouraged to stop and take a look. Not being fueled by desperation, aggression is not present here and with a friendly wave one can walk by. One of our favorite walks is by the water of the Bosphorus where a bridge within minutes can connect one with Asia. It is a great people watching place where especially on a Sunday evening families take a stroll and stop to eat a doner sandwich which is fast becoming a favorite of ours. It is refreshing to see men and women walk hand in hand with their children hopping close by. The Muslim women are dressed in full length coats with their heads covered in brightly colored scarves . We have seen few women donned in the full black with scarves covering their faces. On one of our walks, when taking a picture, a young man stopped us and asked if we knew the significance of the statue which picture we were taking and we did not. He happily explained while walking next to us, hand in hand with his girl friend and the pride this young man took in his city Istanbul, the cradle of civilization, was evident. He was a young student and while pecking a kiss on her nose told us of his plans to marry this beautiful girl after completing his studies and mandatory 6 month tour in the Military, even if her father would not approve. In one of the guide books we read, the tourist is reminded that Turkey is a laic country where the Turkish people enjoy eating, drinking and dancing and that religion and government do not walk together like some other Arabic countries. Istanbul draws many tourists, especially the young, and throughout we hear Bulgarian, Romanian, Dutch and English spoken as well as many other languages. The traffic once again drives on the right side and with our many months seeing it on the left , at first this came across as being on the wrong side. As far as we are concerned after seeing the traffic in Thailand, Nepal and India; Pick a side and then please stay on it!

Tonight we will board a bus and travel through Turkey for 7 days stopping in Cappadocia,Pamukkale and Ephesus before returning to Istanbul for a couple more days, where there is till plenty more for us to see and do.

Gule-Gule

Tom and Els