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ISTANBUL
Day
1 Friday June 8, 2001
By Linda Culpepper
Day one is over. I sit in my bed and muse about my experience.
One thing is sure--I am very tired. There are other women who are also
very tired.
My musings turned into sleep, so it is now Saturday morning,
and I sit outside on the roof of our hotel, the Aya Sofya. As I awoke
I heard the call to prayer and found myself reflecting on the Spirit,
the source of all that is. It is really that source that has brought me
to this time and place. I smile as I write because I never
would have imagined I'd be sitting in Istanbul, Turkey, writing in a journal.
Yet here I am, thrilled to be part of this adventure.
I look in front of me and see familiar flowers; I look up and see the
same moon that I see in Livermore. Then I look to my right and see the
dome of a mosque, a spire and some very old buildings. It is wonderful
and my heart fills with gratitude and with the wonder and awe of being
in another land. Also with uncertainty and timidity at beginning to learn
how to move about.
One thing is easy. In Turkey, I am a millionaire! Already I have discovered
many friendly folks who are willing to help me spend my millions. A young
man, from the hotel pointed me and three others in the direction of the
Covered Bazaar. It was fascinating and great fun. What a wonderful maze
of Turkish delights.
Later, our entire group met and visited Kadin Emegini Degerlendirme Vakfi
(The Foundation for the Support of Women's Work) (Ed. - a large organization
with projects all over the country). It was here we first experienced
that beautiful Turkish hospitality as we drank tea, ate pastries and listened
to Gulruh (Ed.: formerly an economist with the Dow Chemical Company) as
she explained the Foundation's work.
Ed.: Even though the Foundation is funded from abroad, the basis of its
work is what Turkish women tell it they want, because its central goal
is to empower them. What these women said (and therefore what the Foundation
gives them) is: mother-child centers; kindergarten; micro-enterprise loans
for starting their own businesses (restaurants, toy workshops, carpenters'
shops, etc.; help in going to the municipality to ask for better lighting,
etc.
Gulruh told us some very interesting things in the question-and-answer
period.
There is no opposition from men to the work of the Foundation.
The Turkish government is very supportive of family planning The average
woman has only about 2.5 children.
Abortion is legal and subsidized in Turkey.
Prostitution has been decriminalized and is state-controlled and inspected.
For several years, the winner of the national award for the largest individual
taxpayer was a madam. She even got to shake hands with the President of
the Republic! She is also a major philanthropist.
After this we went to Sanamet Mutfek, a restaurant run by women, where
we were served delicious, authentic Turkish food.
Each day will bring a whole new set of events and all that goes with
them. I look forward with anticipation, and I trust, an open heart.
Day 2 Saturday, June 9, 2001
by
-Nancy Steele
The day began with an orientation for the whole group in the Aya Sofya's
cozy lobby. In answer to the question "Why Turkey?" Meli told
us the trip's purpose is to explore the roots of culture and to see where
women fit in.
Then we set off for the Basilica Cistern, just off the Hippodrome near
Hagia (or Aya)
Sofia. We went down marble steps to a cool, enormous underground space,
dripping with water. Walkways led over the shallow pool, under brick domes
supported by marble pillars from various temples. Giant Medusa heads were
used as bases for two of the pillars; lots of tourists clustered there
especially. The sound of falling water blended with mysterious music.
Afterward, we went to the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Arts in what
once was
a palace, across the Hippodrome from the Blue Mosque. Its beautiful, peaceful
garden was a contrast to the streets thronged with people and traffic.
Meli explained that she prefers the name Anatolia, because "Turkey"
leaves out so much of the area's long history. "Anatolia" is
from the Greek "Anadolu," meaning "rising sun." But
in Turkish "ana" means "mother" and "dolu"
means "full of" (as in "dolmas"). Therefore, to a
Turk Anatolia means "land full of mothers."
At the museum café we had tea and cakes while Meli talked about
the history
of Istanbul, beginning with the dream of Byzas in 1200 BC (who founded
"Byzantium" on the Bosphorus, where he could collect tolls from
all who used the waterway), to Xerxes, Alexander, Julius Caesar, and Constantine
(who made it the capital of the Roman Empire and changed the city's name
to Constantinople). When the Turkic people came from Central Asia, they
changed the city's name again, to "Istanbul" from signs they
saw on the way to the city, reading "eis ten polin." They didn't
realize the signs simply meant "to the city" in Greek.
In the museum, which was nearly deserted, were magnificent carpets (many
in fragments), brass lamps, ceramics. Meli told us about the Seljuk Turks,
who came to Anatolia from Merv in Central Asia in the 11th century. (Their
vast empire at its peak included much of China and all of Persia and the
Middle East.) Their traditions of shamanism and Zoroastrianism underlie
Anatolians' interpretation of Islam, resulting in women's greater assertiveness
and less repression than in other versions of Islam (such as the Semitic).
She cautioned us against two common mistakes: (1) Don't call Turkey a
desert, and (2) Be aware that tulips come from Turkey, not from Holland.
After lunch we went to Hagia Sofia, along with hundreds of other visitors.
Inside, the marble-paved building was almost clammy after the balmy sunshine
outdoors. We climbed the winding, rough marble ramp to the mezzanine,
where Mara conducted a simple ritual in honor of the original Sofia, who
was a pagan goddess. Each of us read one or two lines aloud from a poem
about Holy Wisdom (which is what Hagia - or Aya - Sofia means); then Mara
anointed us with an oil to promote inspiration (the third eye), a mixture
of sandalwood, rosewood, cedar - and mugwort, for dreams.
On the main floor of the church/mosque (now a museum), we gazed at the
immense domes traced with mosaic decorations. A ray of sunlight streamed
from
one of the windows encircling the main dome, piercing the gloom. Hagia
Sofia was built as a church, with the altar oriented toward Jerusalem;
then when
it was converted to a mosque, the mihrab that replaced the altar was oriented
toward Mecca and therefore is a few degrees off center. (Since1934, it
is neither church nor mosque, but a museum.)
Meli said something she was to repeat in other places: that architecture
reflects mentality. For example, the soaring domes on tall pillars represent
heaven, whereas the horizontal orientation of earlier temples related
to the earth (as a grove of trees does).
Meli's favorite spot in Hagia Sofia is a corner with a huge marble urn
for ablutions, flanked by dark red granite columns taken from the temple
of Artemis at Ephesus. The seat for someone performing ablutions is a
fragment of an Ionic capital. This conjunction shows the range of civilizations
that have thrived here.
Dinner was at a rooftop restaurant near the Blue Mosque, with splendid
views of the Bosphorus, the Asian side of Istanbul, Hagia Sofia and the
sunset.
As we were walking back to our hotel, the Son et Lumiere show was beginning.
The two great mosques were bathed in colored lights. With the booming
narration (in Turkish) and the swelling music, we felt as if we were in
a movie.
Various people were left behind the group today, not knowing where we
were to
meet next. I had lingered for one more photo at the Islamic Arts museum,
and
when I got to the street, the group had vanished. I chose a likely direction
to pursue them but didn't find them. It was perplexing at first, but I
soon
felt very comfortable on the street alone, among all the local people,
tourists, postcard sellers. I like this city very much, though I think
it
reveals itself slowly. It has many layers, twisting streets, sudden views
of
the water. It feels strange but not forbidding-just mysterious. I could
happily take years unraveling some of those mysteries.
-Nancy Steele
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DAY
3 Sunday, June 10, 2001
The Hippodrome
Meli took us up to the site of the ancient Hippodrome, which
seated 100,000 people and was three times as big as the one in Rome. It
was constructed in the 4th century by a Byzantine emperor who wanted to
show those Romans that Byzantium was "Nea Roma" (the new Rome).
Not just chariot races but political rallies and even folk dances (!)
were held there. The actual Hippodrome doesn't exist any more, but you
can't ignore the striking ancient symbols of imperial power and alliances
that marked it: an Egyptian obelisk covered with hieroglyphs, intact and
very beautiful; a large spiral column resembling a screw that was originally
much taller; a granite rough-stone obelisk, where climbing contests were
held to celebrate the departure of the Roman Catholic Crusaders. The Crusaders
wreaked destruction and death, focusing their fanatical rage not so much
on Muslims as on Eastern Orthodox Christians, according to Meli.
The
Blue Mosque
Built between 1606 and 1616 by Sultan Ahmet I, this beautifully renovated
mosque is called by the Turks "Sultan Ahmet's mosque." He insisted
on building it over the ancient Hippodrome so that it could be opposite
Aya Sofya (completed in 537), which it rivals in size and beauty. He told
his terrified Grand Vizier and architect to spare no expense.
From the entire neighborhood, you can see the four delicate blue-tipped
minarets that surround it. Ten gates lead to the outer courtyard, which
in turn opens into an inner courtyard. As I entered the building itself,
I got a powerful sense of delicacy and lightness within grandeur. I was
struck by the pointed arches, the massive columns, the many vaulted domes
and half-domes. The color scheme is pale blue, light auburn, cream, yellow.
Numerous large and small stained glass windows keep the interior very
light.
The architect, Mehmet Aga, was a poet and musician as well as a mathematician,
and I felt that I could see all those influences.
The walls and domes are painted with numerous circles and medallions,
green and white tesserae, Arabic calligraphy, twining leaves and flowers,
bells, mandalas, and designs that look like Christmas tree baubles and
Chinese stamps. Other walls look like batik or granite and marble moiré
patterns. The entire floor is carpeted in a design that follows the color
scheme and visual themes of the mosque as a whole.
Meli took this occasion to give us some insights into Islam:
In Islam each human is God's perfect masterpiece who should never feel
intimidated by grandeur - hence the circles of lights on metal rods suspended
low over the prayer area, designed to create a sense of human scale. (I
couldn't help noticing that only men seem to be permitted to enter the
prayer area.)
The over-all design creates a focus not on an altar but on the totality
and on the highest central dome, which represents God. Islam does not
glorify priests as much as Christianity does.
I found this mosque stunning, inspiring, breath-taking. To me, the presence
of the divine was palpable. Many people in it seemed to be in a kind of
holy trance.
The
Harem in Topkapi Palace
Harem," pronounced by Meli with the accent on the second
syllable, is one of several elements (including Roman criminal law) which
were adopted by the Ottomans from their Christian predecessors, the Byzantines.
(Ellen points out that the Hellenistic gynaeceum is also much like a harem.)
This "gilded cage," the living quarters of the Sultan's family,
was self-governed by the hierarchy of women who lived within its walls.
Topkapi Palace as a whole, built in the 15th century, looks like a tent
made of concrete. Meli explained that in the early days, the Ottoman rulers
still had the mentality of nomads.
At its peak, the Harem housed 800-1200 women; by 1922, when the Ottoman
Empire died, it was down to five or six hundred. Only a few of these were
the concubines of the Sultan, who was the only man allowed in - except,
of course, for the eunuchs, many of whom (including the head man) were
Black Africans. Many others were the ladies in waiting of the members
of the royal family and of the Sultan's concubines. Some were gifted artists
and musicians, both composers and performers. It is a Western, Orientalist
fantasy that all the Harem women were sex slaves.
The Sultan's mother, the Sultana, presided over the Harem. She also played
a significant role in affairs of state. Many Sultanas fanned the imperial
ambitions of their son ("Capture Baghdad! Invade Egypt!") and
engaged in palace intrigue and even murder -which was pretty much a necessity
in order to attain and keep power as Sultan. Part of the job of the eunuchs
was to guard the Sultana and the other members of the royal family. The
Sultan's four wives constantly engaged in intrigue, each one wanting to
put her own son in a position to take the throne, in part to further her
own ambitions for power.
We saw a series of very beautiful, ornate rooms, some with stone floors
and tiled walls, some with idealized painted landscapes, representing
what the women could never see. There were gold filigree decorations,
fountains in the bath, lots of vaulted ceilings, even gold grating. What
we saw was fine enough to make some of the IWSI women long for time-shares
- which became a running gag throughout the tour.
The Byzantines and Ottomans had highly developed seismic engineering
skills, which is why the Harem (as well as the Cistern and the Egyptian
obelisk) still stand.
In 1922, when the Ottoman Empire ended, the Harem women (who were all
foreign slaves) were freed and paid off handsomely. Many did not go back
to their humble families but lived a sophisticated life in modern Turkey
and boasted of having been a "woman of the palace." After all,
Harem women had the finest clothing and lived in gorgeous, luxurious rooms
(or at least some of them did; we only saw the best of the over 300 rooms
in the Harem). They were also close to the Sultan and had an opportunity
to gain some real power themselves if they were among the lucky gifted
or favored ones.
Yet I would not consider for a moment of giving up freedom to live the
life they lived. I'm sure the Turkish classical music and art that a few
of them practiced were very beautiful, but they were also very traditional,
leaving little scope for real artistic creativity. As a straight woman,
I would really miss having sexual and loving relationships with men (even
those who slept with the Sultan must have done so rarely and without true
intimacy). Mostly, though, the thought of being a slave, locked up and
totally subject to the will of others, is appalling to me.
Turkish
Children
As we approach the Pudding Shop for lunch, we file past a parade of
schoolchildren, maybe 10 years old, heading in the opposite direction.
They wave gleefully and call out "Hell-o! Hell-o! Hell-o!"
as we walk by. We respond in kind. We are to see many other exuberant,
friendly groups of Turkish children.
Hermaphroditic
Mosques
Every mosque has both at least one breast (dome) and one phallus (minaret).
The larger ones are blessed with many breasts and phalluses, artistically
arranged. What wonderful gender balance! Too bad it's not reflected
in the actual religious life of the country.
Chora
Church
This lovely church was first built in the 12th century, then rebuilt
after being destroyed by Crusaders. The beautifully restored frescoes
provided religious education for a largely illiterate population by
depicting Bible stories and characters. They are clear, vivid, graceful
and uncluttered. The Iconoclasts (image destroyers) frustrated this
endeavor for a while when they got the upper hand in the Byzantine Empire,
but the pro-icon faction was in power during most of the 11 centuries
of Byzantine rule. Ironically, though, the Iconoclasts won when Islam
completed the conquest of Anatolia in the 15th century.
Mehmet
and Huguette
This unusual couple,
a Turkish craftsman and his French Canadian wife, who look to be in
their '60s, hosted us at their home in Istanbul. It was a hot day, but
Mehmet, who is very round and fat and has huge, bulging eyes, was wearing
gray corduroy overalls, a long-sleeved blue shirt buttoned up at the
neck and a royal blue knit cap. He sat in his lovely garden the whole
time we were there, while his wife and female servants scurried around
serving him and his guests. Mehmet's parents and his ancestors for many
generations back were craftsmen using the Yazma block print method,
which originated in China. As a young man he tried to resist his destiny,
but at the age of around 30 he not only became a craftsman but focused
on the same motifs as his parents. From the time he first became an
artist, Mehmet's beautiful work has sold like hotcakes and that day
was no exception. We went on the first of many buying sprees at tour
sites.
His work is printed on textiles large and small. Favorite themes: cherubs;
nursing mothers; Arabic script; trees of life; vines of flowers; fish
(Mehmet loves to snorkel and scuba in the Black Sea).
Huguette spoke to us briefly about what it was like to be a foreign
wife in Istanbul. She was distressed about the bestseller Not Without
My Daughter, which portrayed life for a foreign wife in a Muslim country
(Iran) in such a negative light. She has written her memoirs in order
to undo some of the damage. The foreign wives in Istanbul have organized
themselves to establish and finance battered wives shelters. (Domestic
violence is a major problem in Turkey.)
On
a boat on the Bosphorus
This was a long, beautiful ride between houses, palaces, mosques, cafes,
all manner of buildings, most of them very attractive. Much of Istanbul
is a pleasant city full of white or pastel buildings with red-tiled
roofs. Both the railroad station and the train were modern and attractive,
with hard-working porters.
After an incredibly intense two and a half days in Istanbul, we are
off to Ankara on the night train.
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