Chasing Ideals

Now to continue the story. Day two I was as sprightly as a new born gazelle after my fab night sleep. Had plenty of energy for seeing the Aya Sofya and Underground Cistern before catching an evening Galatasaray (great news for Cahit) match with motorway crossing accessories. The Aya Sofya was originally a Christian church but was later fitted for mosquedom by the Ottoman's. The lighting and the colors inside really impressed me and I ended up snapping more than a few shots in all areas. A mixture of Christian and Muslim symbolism was something I had not seen before. I was inspired to one day learn to write in the Arabic style as it is far more artistic than any penmanship these hands have mustered. Thoughts emerged in my time there as to the stark contrast between Christian life in Cappodocia and the huge church scene of old Constantinople. I can never rationalize the motives of those who created massive structures in honor of one who gave all that he had and was to those that he loved. It reminded me that the message and actions of Christ were never meant for the grand halls but for affecting the lives of those that might never have been allowed to set foot within those halls.

Details about the Underground Cistern had given it all the appeal of visiting a squatter toilet but my Dutch friends had assured me of its charms. After seeing the place I agree that it was worth a gander. The ambience within included soft playing orchestra music and dripping water from above. On Lovable Quirks now you can see this now red lit cavern that once housed much of the water supply. It was built at the Eastern Roman Empire's peak when obviously money and manpower were no obstacle. At this point in the day I was enthralled with the idea of seeing my first league football match. I was told by Cahit in Can that me seeing Galatasaray (one of the big three teams of Turkish football) play would endanger our friendship but it was the only game to see all weekend. He is a Fenerbahce fan to the core so naturally I must support another squad. In my months of travel I have yet to see a single match and so this night I was not to be convinced out of the attempt.

Myself and Ashley prepared ourselves to go and discovered that one of the hostel employees, Mustafa, and two other guests, Ana and Anita, were desiring the same. Mustafa was fairly convinced we could get tickets even though the hour late and the time for the game approaching. The five of us hopped into a cab and were on our way. Mustafa the lucky sod got the front seat while we other four squeezed into the designed-for-three back seat. Warm we were in that heavily intimate of circumstances. Ana and Anita have come to Turkey from Slovenia for a few weeks of travel. We had plenty of time on the way to the stadium to chat as the way was long but more pressingly the traffic was a bit of a nightmare. When we did arrive the line for tickets spelled our doom as far as getting in. Mustafa, though, seemed undaunted and sent us to the back of the line while he headed in to the fray at the front. Five minutes later he joined us in line with five of the best (tickets that is) in hand. How the task was managed I shall never know? There was no time for questions either as we made a dash for the entrance. Three full bod frisks and pat downs (number two was the least enjoyable as the chap was no proponent of touch-me-tender) later we made it to our sunflower seed covered seats and prepared for kickoff. The match itself between Galatasaray and Sivasspor was a thorough thrashing with three goals scored by Galatasaray in just the first half. The more impressive entertainment was the enthusiasm and comraderie of the attending fans. The cheers and chants rarely ceased and in one corner a conductor of sorts kept them coming loud and frequent. At one point fans on one end called to those in our area who called back with successive lines and this went on for some time. In the second half I'm given to understand that Sivasspor got one of their own back but as I'm prone to do I spent the whole time chatting and witnessed none of it. The chance to know another of our Creator's masterpieces always takes precendence over any and all distractions. When suddenly Mustafa was hustling us out I had no awareness that the game's end was approaching. He had us out in the street in moments. Then at feverish pace we were hopping barriers and racing across a motorway to catch a cab. There were few moments for stopping to smell the proverbial roses on that venture. Back at the hostel the lot of us joined Kate and Anika and together we spent the evening chatting and puffing on a communal hookah pipe.

Day three lacked some of the tourist energy of the previous. We met Ana and Anika for brekers before heading to Topkapi Palace and its repititious jewelry displays. I don't wish to be too hard on the place but there are only so many gaudy necklaces one chap can view. Perhaps a variety of layouts would have improved matters as most rooms were set up the exact same way. Islam also seems no stranger to relics as teeth and hair from Mohammed abounded in one of the main rooms. His mantle there remains enclosed in a solid gold casket behind thick glass. A few strides across a courtyard and I ended up in the circumcision room. Cold but colorful tiles decorated the place where many a young lad awaited the chop. An iron contraption no doubt put to some torturous use sat near the fireplace and little pools for water lined the room's side. Heady spot for a chap to visit considering its purpose. We alotted only a short time for the palace visit and what he did have was probably enough. Our Slovenian chums met us for lunch and afterward since no one had energy for more museum jaunts we went for fruit teas and baklava at a cosy spot. I am reminded always that that which is most memorable of my journey is not churches and museums but those that I have shared these moments in the company of. In the evening we had to say our goodbyes to Ana and Anita as they are off to Cappodocia and later the west coast. Hopefully I will be able to connect them with Serap and my other chums in Kusadasi and they can give them the grand tour of the area that they gave me. I now have two good friends to visit in Slovenia. I thoroughly enjoyed their company and the conversations we had.

Yesterday and today have been do-little days. Ashley has been sicker than a dead dog since Sunday night and only began to recover today. Varying degrees of cholera and what not seems to be the diagnosis. Kate joined him today which meant they have to postpone their journey to Greece for tomorrow. Yesterday Kate, Anika and I attempted another ferry ride to no avail and instead headed to the Grand Bazaar for wall to wall shopping. The place was again far too tourist driven and much more expensive than others markets I have been. When a seller has one hundred copies of the same map and wants 100 lira for one you know you are being jipped. I enjoy a good haggling session but not when the starting price is already light years from what it should be. It is quite a change for me that in Istanbul everyone with something to sell speaks a good bit of English. I have struggled linguistically everywhere but here. One chap approached me with a Sylvester Stalone look and sounding script. I knew more clearly than ever then that I'm in the tourist haven of Turkey. I'm glad to know it doesn't begin to represent the intrigue afforded by this country. In the evening we (still minus Ashley) visited a friend of mine from Can. I met Eray during Bayram when he was home from school and was glad to meet up with him again so soon. We didn't have a lot of time together but that amount we did I enjoyed as I had my time with him before. We had only time to go to his favorite Heavy Metal bar (cool place actually) and then for a bite to eat (best kebab I have tasted). I feel so incredibly blessed to have made so many connections with people here. It is overwhelming when I try to think of all those in Turkey that I have had time and experiences with. Today I've lounged around writing this and chatting with the two patients and Anika. I am glad that we had this last day together as the time has flown.

Tomorrow morning I will be headed to Ireland. I couldn't express in a few words what this time will mean for me and this post is long enough already. Needless to say I am very excited and am going to relish each moment with Tara, Floyd and babs to the fullest extent I can. That babs is in for some major uncle lovin'. Take a look at the new picture galleries I have posted. The first Istanbul gallery gives an idea of the sights I have seen and in the last two pictures you can see my companions. Ashley, Kate and Anika in the first. Myself, Ana, and Anita in the second. The smaller Istanbul gallery has pictures I snagged from Ashley's collection as well as a few of my own and pictures from the football match. The chap you won't recognize in that gallery is Eray. Also in that gallery I added a picture of a bizarre book advertisement. The Pope is here in Turkey this week and that book just came on the shelves it seems. Then the last gallery posted lets you finally see my hosts in Can, Nihal and Emre, and their baby Uras. I threw in another picture with Cahit as well, though he has been in plenty already.

My journeying to Istanbul started with an uneventful busride followed by a madhouse shuttle to Sultanahmet, the city's tourist hub. The shuttle bus driver seemed keen on displaying his credentials to this weary tourist. He was hell bent on sideswiping any parked car in range and destroying the lower limbs of any and all poor sods unlucky enough to be crossing the road. After each attempt at "death or glory" he would look over to me with a proud smile and utter a few words in Turkish. I imagined them to be something to the tune of "Aren't I a bad ass." The chap in the back seat with the ten-pack-a-day smoker's voice was continually yelling at the driver throughout the journey. Driver was having none of whatever ten-pack was saying and would yell back and wave his arms in a slightly obscene fashion. This led ten-pack to make repeated phone calls which would again be roared out. As driver would make comments ten-pack would repeat them at five times the volume into his phone. I sat enamored with the novelty of their ridiculous conversation. It seemed as two actors on a small and unconvincing shuttle bus stage. Eventually ten-pack's stop was found and with a few more wails and weezes he was off with two large sacks of belongings. Driver then re-mustered all his energy toward ending my existence until eventually I was dropped at the doorstep of my hostel.

It felt strange at first to meet up with my old chums from Berlin. Ashley and Kate arrived in Istanbul two days before myself and a friend of theirs, Anica, the day before me. It seems so long ago that we were together for the World Cup final and since that time they journeyed thousands of miles west and I the same east. We had hinted at meeting up again in Istanbul but I never had considered it would happen. I arrived at the hostel before nine a.m. and found them still dozy from sleep and in their jim-jams. Apparently some German chap named Hans had barged in to their room two hours earlier with his sights set on stealing my bed. They were prepared for my arrival so Hans came as a bit of a shock and they had to turn the poor bugger out. I was happy to not discover a bed time guest named Hans in my weak and exhausted state. After the initial shock of seeing each other after such a long stint we chatted for a short while about where our travels had taken us before I attempted a nap but to no avail. I decided instead to join them for brekers before we hit the town for the afternoon.

That first day I wandered with them despite my exhaustion to the Blue Mosque, Spice Market and a ferry ride a meager distance up the Bosphorous. At the Blue Mosque the relative volume of the call to prayer was a tad overbearing. Small town mosques with small speakers were nothing compared to the decibels put out at this place. After a long wait for the faithful to emerge from within we bagged our shoes and took a look round inside. It was very impressive in its architecture and the four of us sat and gazed for a short while. Afterwards we headed to the docks and found the ferry that we guessed went the furthest upstream on the Bosphorous. Poor guess sadly and we made it only a short ways before the ferry docked at another port and then turned around and went back. It was amazing, however, to see the grand buildings lining many of the coastal areas. I imagined the reaction of sailors and travelers entering the city in Istanbul's hayday. They would have been overwhelmed at the sights and sounds of this bustling city. The numbers of markets, churches, and palaces is greater than those of other cities I have visited. Our last venture was a trip to the nearby spice market. I must admit twas a bit of a let down as it lacked any real variety. It seemed to me to have the same teas and few spices in each and every store. I had hoped for heady and intoxicating aromas and more of an original atmosphere. Tourism has created there a sterile and catered environment. Away from touristic areas I have found markets to be far more natural and cultural. I saw the Spice Market as a place that local people would not go because it is no longer meant for them but purely for tourists and that killed my enthusiasm for the place.

I added a photo gallery to Lovable Quirks so have a look. Some of the photos are from places I have yet to describe but bear with me as the reports are coming.