Oh, my Philippines.

I am so saddened to hear about the floods in the Philippines. As many of you know, I have been there four times and lived there two years ago while on a Fulbright scholarship. In many ways, it feels like a second home. They have found dozens dead in the flooding there recently, when a month's worth of rain fell in about six hours.

I can't imagine the struggle those people are facing right now, many of whom live hand to mouth, barely surviving off their daily earnings--if they make any earnings at all. At the same time, I've been moved by photos of young street children jumping off make-shift boats and laughing as the rain pours down on their faces. If there's one thing I know, it's that Filipinos are survivors, able to smile and help a neighbor in the midst of any disaster. It's one of the things that inspires me about them the most.

See a news report by the BBC here, and keep them in your hearts.

Photo taken from this website: http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/asia/article6851191.ece by (Reuters/Erik de Castro)

I found an incredible cappuccino!

I don't drink coffee very often, but every once in a while, I like a good cappuccino. Anyway, I tried all kinds of coffee shops in Istanbul, looking for a good cappuccino without any luck, and then today, randomly tried a little coffeehouse in our downtown student area, and voila!

An amazing, cappuccino that's not a latte! (You know what I mean, coffee drinkers! There's a difference!

Anyway, I had to document the moment.

I know how it feels now

I was on the bus today with Fielding, the Fulbright teaching assistant with me in Isparta. She just arrived two days ago and you have no idea how excited I am to have another American here, let alone a female, let alone a woman who's been here before and speaks better Turkish, and is, to top it all off, a really wonderful person.

Anyway, today we were on the bus, on the way back from exploring the city for the first time by ourselves. I was so proud of us--we didn't get lost, we did everything we wanted to do, scoped out the town, and even bought bus tickets to Ankara (the capitol) for Tuesday morning.

On the bus back to campus, I noticed a girl with long, red hair and very pale skin. Fielding and I launched into a conversation about her. Was she local? Was she a foreign exchange student? There was no way she could be Turkish, right? I mean, her hair was so red! It was impossible, right? I told her that I'd sat on the bus next to a redhead on my bus trip back from Istanbul, and we both were quite surprised. "I could tell she dyed it," I told her. We were baffled by this girl. Who was she? Where was she from?

Suddenly, I realized something. "Oh god," I said, "We're acting like Turks. This must be how they talk about us!"

She laughed and nodded, and told me about times when she had overheard gossip about her. Then I said, "I wonder if they're all talking about us right now?"

We had our answer when we got off the bus at campus. I turned around for just a moment, to see a full bus of students watching our every move as we walked away, talking, nudging each other, smiling, wondering the same things we had wondered about the unusual pale girl with the beautiful red hair.

Istanbul Day 4: Dervish delight

One of the most profound moments I had in Istanbul was seeing the Whirling Dervishes perform. It wasn't the first time I'd seen them, though the performance was more intimate than the one I saw years ago. It was more intimate because I've been reading Sufi poetry for over ten years now (Whirling Dervishes are Sufis), and so seeing the Dervishes after years of reading my favorite poets: Rumi and Hafiz, made the experience unbelievably special. In fact, Rumi died in Konya, the town where one of my colleagues lives, and I plan to make a pilgrimage out there this winter.

It's difficult to summarize the Sufi tradition, or any religion really, so I'll do my best here. Sufism is a mystical branch of Islam, though some Sufis argue that they came before the Prophet Mohammed, while others find that offensive. As one website said, Sufism "has its roots in the Qu’ran and the Islamic tradition, but at the same times encompasses the universal mysticism that we see in other spiritual traditions. The essence of Sufism is the simple path of loving God. The Sufi Masters sing of the all pervading love which inundates their being when they become one with their “beloved”. If there is just one goal of Sufism; it is to overcome the attachment to the binding ego and attain liberation through realising one’s identity with God."

Reading Hafiz and Rumi, I am always so moved by the simple, divine love they express for God, which always make God seem so close and intimate, like a best friend or lover. In fact, in Sufi poetry we often find God referred to as Friend, Beloved, Father, Mother, the Wine seller, the Problem giver, and the Problem solver. As the website states: "This ambiguity in describing God served a dual purpose. Firstly it made it difficult for his poetry to be censored for its unorthodox mystical ideas. It also illustrates the inherent difficulty a poet has in describing the nature of God. The infinite is beyond all name and form, how can the poet describe that which is beyond words?"

The website goes on to say: "The Sufi masters believed that outer religious forms were useless, unless they inspired the inner devotion. Poetry was their tool to poke fun at the pompous and arrogant. They took great delight in exposing hypocrisy, pride and vanity."

Finally, here is a quote from the Sufi commentator Quashayri:

Sufism is entry into exemplary behavior and departure from unworthy behavior. Sufism means that God makes you die to yourself and makes you live in him. The Sufi is single in essence; nothing changes him, nor does he change anything. The sign of the sincere Sufi is that he feels poor when he has wealth, is humble when he has power, and is hidden when he has fame. Sufism means that you own nothing and are owned by nothing.

Sufism means entrusting the soul to God most high for whatever he wishes. Sufism means seizing spiritual realities and giving up on what creatures possess. Sufism means kneeling at the door of the Beloved, even if he turns you away. Sufism is a state in which the conditions of humanity disappear. Sufism is a blazing lightning bolt.

--Quoted in Sufism: An essential introduction to the philosophy and practice of the mystical tradition of Islam, by Carl W. Ernst, PhD)

Enjoy a short clip of Whirling Dervishes dancing the sema below. A quick note about the sema, or Dervish dance. The Dervishes (or semazens) and begin twirling. This represents the birth of humanity. The sikke is the slender earth-colored headdress which symbolises the tombstone of the ego. The hırka is the long black cloak representing the tomb. The tennure is the full skirted long gown depicting the shroud. As the dervishes enter the circle their arms are crossed across their chest. In this position they signify the oneness of God. During the sema their arms are extended with the right hand opened upward, receiving from God, and the left hand turned downward, giving to humanity and keeping nothing for themselves.

And now, I close with a little quote from Hafiz:

"A poet is someone
Who can pour Light into a spoon,
Then raise it to nourish
Your beautiful parched, holy mouth."

Be sure to check out the video below for a small glimpse into the sema ritual.


Or an even better one here (which I couldn't embed).

Istanbul Day 4 (part 1): Hamam heaven

I didn't take any pictures on Day 4, because cameras weren't allowed in either of the two places we went. The first place Leanna, Patreshia, and I went to was a hamam, or Turkish bath. We headed to Çemberlitaş Hamam, the second most famous hamam in Istanbul (also in the Sultanahmet region). According to the website, the bath was established by Nurbanu Sultan (I haven't heard of her either), wife of Selim II and mother of Murat III, for the purpose of bringing in revenue to support a local charity. The bath was built in 1584, and has sides for both men and women.

Patreshia and Leanna were both REALLY hesitant to go. They'd both gone to hamams either in their home town or some other smaller, less professional/touristic facility. Leanna, with her pale skin, blue eyes, and light blonde hair, had been stared at so much she couldn't handle the intense attention again. Both had also been scrubbed as if they were being punished for something, and niether had been impressed with the overall hygiene as well (the towels smelled "used" for example).

Well, I was determined. So, I dragged them there and we had a great time. We entered the entry room of the women's section (which had been recently restored) and were surrounded by marble columns and wooden benches. After changing into our towels, we then went into the bathing area, technically, the hamam. The entire surface of the hamam was warm marble that could almost burn your feet if you didn't wear the slippers they handed out to you. There were several fountains along the smooth, marble walls where you could bathe yourself with metal bowls; there were two hot pools in a back room, and then a large, flat circular stone in the middle of the room, known as the göbek tasi (navel stone). The göbek tasi was built over a wood or coal furnace that then heated the rest of the hamam.

Women laid on the göbek tasi and waited until the attendant called them over. Turkish women in their bras and panties, their hair tied up in messy bundles, scrubbed our bodies down with the loofah scrubs we'd been given at the entrance. They had this amazing technique where they could create a pillow-sized mass of bubbles and then scrub you down (yes, we're either naked or in underwear). As I usually do in saunas, I got totally overheated, so I couldn't last long, but it was lovely and cleansing, and felt like an official baptism into my life in Turkey.

You can check out images from the actual hamam on their website, here.

Istanbul Day 3: Ferry Fun

Pictures of our ferry trip down the Boshporus. A lovely adventure.

Istanbul: The Second Day--Sultanahmet sweetness

Here are pictures of my second day in Istanbul. We went to the Sultanahmet region and toured around that section of the peninsula. While I didn't go inside Tokapi or Hagia Sophia (because I'll be here again in October), I did go inside the Blue Mosque, and had some good exploring with my friends.

The pictures weren't as great as I hoped they'd be because the light was terrible: overcast and cloudy all day, which muted everything. But hopefully they capture at least a piece of the beauty.

Enjoy!

Istanbul: The First Night--Meyhane Meyhem

I first read about the meyhane tradition in a book on Turkish history and culture called Crescent and Star. (Side note: Is the title devoid of articles (as in "the" or "a") because Turkish doesn't have articles either? Who knows?). Anyway, the writer, Stephen Kinzer, wrote about the meyhane experience with such poetic rapture, that I found myself reading it to my dad (a chef) in a near frenzy, unable to contain my excitement at the culinary experience I hoped to have once I arrived in Turkey.

In what I'm finding to be a common experience here, I ended up having this incredible meal simply by following a bunch of people around on some unknown adventure. Leanna, the colleague I stayed with in Istanbul, took me to meet some Turkish friends of hers who were graduating from a CELTA program. The twenty-or-so of them were having a graduation dinner and invited us to join. The cost was 50 lira (about $36) for unlimited food and alcohol. It was a bit pricey, but we decided to join.

It wasn't until a half an hour later, after winding our way through the loud, crushing crowds of the Taksim area of Istanbul, after climbing seven flights of stairs and ending up on a roof-top terrace, that I found myself getting served plate after plate of meze (like Turkish tapas) and realized I was living out my little dream.

An evening at the meyhane is centered around the Turkish drink, rakı, a kind of anise-based drink that is a mix between sambuca and diesel fuel. I don't drink much at all, but a lot of people find it quite intense (not just me!), with a heavy burn on the way down. At the same time, this is what people also love about the drink as well. For my first foray in the world of rakı, the waiter filled my glass with a third full of the potent alcohol, then added water to the rest to make the drink suddenly milky and opalescent. You can see me having my virgin sip of rakı the picture above, shortly followed by only a few more sips, then a request for white wine. Sorry, Turks, I guess I side more with the Italians when it comes to my preferred alcohol with food.

To describe the meal that followed, I have to include the passage from Crescent and Star that originally worked me into such a frenzy. Forgive the lengthy post.

"Meze usually comes in waves. The first will include salad, thick slabs of white cheese, smoked eggplant purée and honeydew melon. What comes next depends on the chef's whim. There might be a selection of cooked, cooled vegetables, or small dolma, which are peppers stuffed with rice, currants and pine nuts, and their close cousins, sarma, made from grape or cabbage leaves. After the next pause might come spicy red lentil balls, mussels on the half shell, mashed beans with lemon sauce, puréed fish roe, yogurt seasoned with garlic and dill, raw tuna fillets, poached mackerel with hazelnut paste or an explosively flavorful dish made of baby eggplants stuffed with garlic cloves, tomatoes, sliced onion and parsley. The last is called Imam Bayıldı, meaning 'the Imam fainted.'" (Jennie: I had this and it was AMAZING.)

"After this comes piping-hot börek, delicate pastries filled with feta cheese and sometimes also spinach, diced chicken, ground lamb or veal, pistachios, walnuts or whatever else is lying around the kitchen...Turkey's ethnic vitality shines through as the evening proceeds. Kebabs and other meze made from meat recall the Central Asian steppes from which nomadic Turkic tribes migrated to Asia Minor, now called Anatolia, a thousand years ago. With them come hummus from Arabia, shredded chicken with walnuts from Caucasus, diced liver from Albania (Jennie: YUCK) and cooked cheese thickened with corn flour from coastal villages along the Black Sea. Then comes the crowning glory, the seafood, a gift from the Greeks, who for millennia did all the cooking along what is now Turkey's Aegean coast. Rakı sharpens the taste of all food, but its magic works best with fish. An old proverb calls rakı the pimp that brings fish and men together for acts of love.

"...Such a meal is a microcosm of Turkey. It is an astonishingly rich experience, but yields its secrets slowly. Patrons at the meyhane, like all Turks, confront an ever-changing mosaic, endless variations on a theme. Each meze tastes different, has its oen color, aroma, texture, and character. The full effect is comparable to that of a symphony, complete with melodies, different rhythms, pacing and flashes of virtuosity, all contained within an overarching structure."

See a short clip of our meyhane meyhem here, accompanied by local musicians, and later, lots of dancing.

Istanbul: The Preface

Most of you probably didn't know it, but until Saturday night, most of your Islamic neighbors were fasting for Ramazan. At sundown in Turkey on Saturday night, the last night of Ramazan, all practicing Turks broke their Ramazan fast with the three-day Bayram holiday. Most cities closed up shop, restaurants closed, people left town to go home to be with their families and celebrate. Since I knew nothing would be going on here, I headed up to Istanbul to spend time with a friend of mine who was staying there.

I've decided to make my trip to Istanbul into separate posts by day, with separate slide shows. I took the overnight bus to get there, a ten-hour trip, broken by two stops where they forced us to wake up and walk around in a rest stop for a half hour. The rest stops are pretty cool though, I must say, because they have little cafes to eat at, lots of locally-crafted food like honey, preserves, and dried fruits, and people making fresh Turkish delight. They're also clean and very well-lit, which is always fun when you're stumbling out of a bus and your eyes haven't adjusted to light.

But I digress. I stayed in Istanbul with my friend Leanna, one of my American counterparts, who is based in a much more conservative city in the east called Ezurum. She decided to stay in Istanbul and study Turkish before she began her second year at her post, and so I came and crashed in her itty-bitty little apartment. Another counterpart, Patreshia from Denizli, came as well, and we all enjoyed the weekend together. Here's a picture of the three of us (Patreshia, Leanna, then me) at our first dinner in Istanbul, a very special meal I'll tell you about in the next post.

My office

Hey look! Here's my office. I know, I should have taken one with me in it. Alas. No one else was around. I will be getting more chairs soon, because I'll mostly be chatting with people in here, not getting work done.

Believe me.