Ann Marie’s Istanbul

An English teacher on a biology trip? Go figure! I just returned from a school ecology trip to Dalyan, on Turkey’s Mediterranean coast. Lovely. More than lovely.

We arrived late, just in time to hear Turkey’s soccer team beat Croatia in overtime, winning a spot in the European Cup semi-finals. The streets immediately filled with celebrating fans honking, chanting, singing, and waving flags. The owner of the Metin Hotel found it a bit deli—crazy. We loved it.

Celebrating soccer fans in the streets of Dalyan

The first morning dawned bright—and hot. Temps were in the high 80’s and 90’s all four days (28 to 35 C.). Luckily, we were mostly in and on the water, the focus of this biology trip (the fourth annual) expertly organized by Gaby McDonald, a South African biology teacher at Robert College. Our eight students were joined by seven science teachers-in-training from Bilkent University (with supervisor Margaret Sands). The plan for the week included two days of hands-on biology activities with follow-up sessions, then two days of recreational adventures. We were also privileged with a night visit to the beach to see loggerhead turtles lay their eggs; the beaches are off-limits to anyone but researchers during the nesting season.

Gaby runs one of many information/feedback sessions on ecological studies.

Back to the first day. After an introductory session by Gaby and her assistant, Noah Billig, we slathered ourselves with sunscreen and walked three blocks to the wharf. Students carried the two huge wooden crates filled with scientific gear. Captain Ramazan welcomed us to our boat/classroom, and we marveled at the ornate tombs carved into the marble cliffs across the waterway. Gorgeous!

Picturesque marble Lycian tombs dominate the veiw from Dalyan.

The day was devoted to water samplings, vegetation surveys, and river current measurements—a mammoth task, in my mind. We moored near a group of sheep clustered in the shade, and from there the work began. One team hopped into a small boat with a long rope to measure the width of the river, then measure the depth at 5 meter intervals as they rowed back from the far shore.

Captain Ramazan rows two girls across the river to measure width and depth.

Another group set up meter-sized quadrants to survey the vegetation along the shoreline (and in the water).

Investigating vegetation within randomly-placed quadrants.

Once those tasks were completed, we headed out to the middle, where water samples were taken at varying depths and analyzed on a number of scales to determine clarity, salinity, phosphate content, etc.

Scientific equipment aids water measurements.

Lastly, six students jumped into the river to help measure the current. The rope with meter measurements was stretched along behind the boat, and pairs of students were posted at 5-meter intervals. Another student dropped two oranges into the water while a second used a stopwatch to time the oranges’ progression along the rope. The process was far slower than expected, and one orange did little but circle below the boat. Our determination was that the wind was counteracting the current or there was little current. We’d discuss possible reasons for it later.

Students continue water samplings from the boat/classroom.

We repeated the water quality tests halfway down the river, where we also wolfed down our lunch of tomato, cucumber, cheese, and salami sandwiches. The Turkish bread is always fresh and crusty, and beyaz peynir (white cheese) is delicious—YUM!!!

Finally, we reached the Mediterranean, where we were set free for a few hours to enjoy the beach and the waves. The sea was much more refreshing than the river’s warm water. We did one final water test just inside the inlet, then motored home with many exhausted students fast asleep.

Tourists enjoying Dalyan beach

After returning home we showered, napped, and held a follow-up session to analyze our data. It was clear that water temperatures, phosphates, and turbidity levels (lack of clarity) were higher upstream, away from the sea. Of course, this also contributed to higher vegetation levels. Students discussed the importance of controlling pollution in the river to maximize the populations of aquatic animals that contribute to the ecosystem.

Pensive students (Squeak and Ayse) during a feedback session.

We then enjoyed the hotel’s scrumptious buffet (mezes, Turkish hors d’oeuvres, are my favorite, so I focused on those). Later we gathered at a local karaoke bar for Gaby’s powerpoint on sea turtles, a focus of much of our research. Loggerhead turtles are amazing. They can live up to 200 years (though the average is 30-60) and can weigh up to 350 pounds. They reach sexual maturity at about 30, and females nest every three years, laying up to 35 pounds of eggs, often in three separate nests. Loggerheads often migrate thousands of miles, although the females return to the beach of their birth to lay their eggs. Recent satellite transmitter data has shown that Turkey’s turtles migrate to Tunesia. It’s interesting, too, to note that loggerhead hatchlings increase their weight more than 6000 times from birth to adulthood. If we did that, we’d weigh about 42,000 pounds.

Crab bait awaits.

Sunday was crabbing day. Ramazan piloted the boat as he tied chicken skin and a heavy nut (hardware) onto lengths of fish line. Once we were anchored in a choice location, the eight lines were thrown into the water around the boat.

Within minutes, five students were reeling in blue crabs, which Ramazan expertly netted and brought to the surface.

Captain Ramazan beams after netting a blue crab.

Gaby taught us how to determine the sex (yup—it’s pretty easy), whether the females were in berry (with eggs), and how to measure the carapace (shell). After noting all the features of each crab, its shell was marked with fingernail polish and it was placed in a bucket, where the morning’s catch soon became a knot of inter-connected pincers and shells. After an hour and a half, a mere 14 crabs had been caught. Ramazan dumped them back in the river to burrow into the mud.

Students measure and mark blue crabs (Ayça and Lal)

We once again headed to the beach for lunch and a swim—ah, the refreshing Mediterranean! The beach, by the way, has rules against putting up sun umbrellas, as they might bore into a turtle nest. They have permanent wicker umbrellas with wooden beach chairs available, otherwise it’s full-sun exposure.

Dalyan beach’s “official” beach umbrellas and chairs

We returned to our crabbing spot to catch crabs again, though with disappointing results—only 4 crabs caught. One of the four was already marked, so using the ratio of pre-caught to repeatedly caught crabs, we computed the population of the 100 square meter area to be about 52 crabs, the same computation as the previous year, although they had caught 50 (compared to our measly 18.) Interesting. Our biggest concern was that none of the females were in berry. Why?

After we returned to the hotel, we had another session to evaluate the results, and groups of students proposed methods of preserving the crab population (the loggerheads’ favorite food).

A post-discussion group photo of young biologists

That night half of us left for the beach with Bekir Bey, a ministry official who Gaby has worked with over the years of this project. Under his escort, we were able to get past the gates onto the beach, where a team of researchers from Pamukkale University are studying loggerhead turtles. They scout the 3-kilometer beach every night, watching for turtles that come in to nest. It’s important to catch each turtle before she covers her nest, as she does an incredible job of throwing sand behind her and over the nest, making it difficult to determine where it is. Although loggerheads are easily frightened away as they search for a nesting spot, once they begin laying, they are in for the count. As they lay their eggs, researchers take measurements and either mark new turtles or snip a sample of tissue from the hind flipper of turtles that have already been marked. Once the turtle has returned to the sea, the researchers dig down about six inches toward the well-covered nest and lay a metal grid over the nest to protect it from fox or other predators. The grid is spaced wide enough to allow the hatchlings to wriggle through, though narrow enough to prevent animals from stealing the eggs. In 55 days the researchers will revisit the nest, then try to protect the hatchlings as they head toward the sea. Unhatched eggs are used for study. Did you know that a sea turtle’s sex is determined by the temperature of the egg’s environment? Let’s see…I think the females are the hotter ones… (29 degrees is the dividing line.)

Photo from Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Loggerhead_close_up.jpg

The moon rose around midnight, charming the beach as we waited to see our turtle lay her eggs. She laid her eggs quickly, so researchers had to do measurements as she headed back to the sea. I wasn’t allowed to use a flash, but I got a few time exposures in the dark that showed the her silouhette as they worked with her.

Time exposures of our female loggerhead turtle being measured after leaving her nest

Our last two days were fun, fun, fun. Monday we went white-water rafting (a 3-hour drive, but WELL worth it.)

Rafting photos by Alternatif Outdoor Rafting

On the last day we went sea kayaking, a new adventure for most of us. I could have stayed out there all day, but we paddled for only a few hours, exploring one of the most picturesque coves of the area.

Too much information, I know—but it was WONDERFUL! I learned a lot about turtles, about ecological balance, and about traveling and adventuring with Turkish kids. I was once again reminded of Turkey’s varied and spectacular scenery.

Thank you, Gaby!

In early April my friend Marnie told me to set aside May 27th for a big event at the Koç School. When I realized it was a Tuesday I was disappointed. The trip from my home on the European side of Istanbul to hers on the easternmost Asian side is long; though only 20 miles, it’s about 3 hours on public transport— a daunting trip for a school night. I changed my attitude, though, when she said it was a live music event. THAT would be worth the trek!

I caught a school service bus to the Asian side of the Bosphorus (only 45 minutes), then hopped on the train to Pendik (another 45, including the wait). I walked four blocks up to the bus “station,” where I was the first to board the next blue mini-bus. Another 20 minute wait, and I was on the 40-minute ride to the Koç School. It had taken me 2 ½ hours from Robert College to the Koç School, record time for afternoon rush hour. Lucky me!

As I checked in at the gate, familiar smiles greeted me, eager for news of my life since Koç. In my limited Turkish I managed a short account before starting the trek across campus to the Paulus’ house.

The guards’ warm welcome brightened my walk along the familiar sidewalks and lawns—nostalgia hit as I cut through the student commons, a huge glass pyramid that joins the major wings of the high school. On my way through, I noticed a poster for Brooks Williams, the headliner for the school’s upcoming talent show. Hmmm…

Brooks beams at his audience.

Marnie and Tony welcomed me with warm hugs and introduced me to their friend Brooks Williams. In the flesh. He’s actually just a regular guy, though I was soon to learn an incredibly talented one. Brooks was the featured event for the evening of backyard music. The Pauluses have known him for years, and he interrupted a musical tour of England to buzz down and join them in Istanbul for a week. An accomplished acoustic guitarist and folk singer, his music is reminiscent of Leo Kotke or John Fahey—my favorites—and he’s that good, too. (Check him out at http://www.myspace.com/redguitarbluemusic .)

The Koç School’s two Davids enjoy Brooks’ folk strumming.

I basked in the warmth of good friends at Koç—about 20 or 30 teachers, staff, administrators, and their lovely children. We were wined and dined with an impressive spread of fabulous mezes (Turkish hors d’oeuvres), then congregated outdoors for music. Ahhhh…Music!

The perfect way for folks to enjoy guitar…

Brooks awed us with both voice and guitar for nearly an hour as the sun sank over the hills of Istanbul, then two local musicians, Tolga and Erdem, took center stage with Turkish folk music. They demonstrated some fascinating percussive techniques, which were great fun. Then, of course, the three guitarists joined together for a jam session, a delightful finale to the evening—which ended far too soon for my tastes.

Tolga and Erdam “strut their stuff”.

The next night brought more live music, this time on my side of the Bosphorus for dinner and jazz. I arrived at Eminönü about an hour early (you never know how long a trip will take with Istanbul traffic), so I headed for the Rustem Paşa Mosque (a favorite spot) to relax in the breezy shade of its second-story courtyard. Lo and behold, who should walk in but Tony, Marnie, Brooks, and Mesure (a Turkish friend from Koç), also early arrivals to the city. Speaks to the charm of the Rustem Paşa, doesn’t it?

The outdoor prayer terrace at Rustem Paşa Mosque

Rustem Paşa interior: a man at prayer

After enjoying the mosque, Mesure treated us to a delicious array of culinary delights at the Hamdi Restaurant (a traditional favorite), then after dinner Brooks and I worked off a bit of our dinner with a trek across the Golden Horn and up the cobbled lanes to Nardis, a night club just below the Galata Tower, where we met others for an evening of jazz (and, of course, rakı—a traditional Turkish drink).

The Nardis was great, but how can you beat the intimacy of good friends at a backyard concert? It just can’t be done, not even in Istanbul.

Yup! Great tunes!

And—tonight I’m going to a Jethro Tull concert. Imagine that!

After waving my own precious houseguests goodbye last weekend (Pat and Phil Kruse— lovers of history, adventure, good food, and rakı), I headed south. I spent the weekend with a Turkish family in Gemlik, a city nestled in the mountains north of Bursa on a picturesque bay of the Sea of Marmara. My young friend Uygar Yilmaz’s parents, Neziye and Hakki, have a charming apartment perched on the hill overlooking the sea, and they showed me the best of their community, their family, and Turkish cuisine. I may never eat again!

It took me longer to get there than I’d hoped—five hours to travel 60+ miles (105 km). Well, the long and short of it is that after a bus ride, a ferry ride, and three more bus rides, I finally got to Gemlik. My hosts were worried about me, expecting I’d arrive hours earlier. No matter—we sat down to a 10:00 (delectable) dinner of çorba (soup), dolma (stuffed vegetables), fried artichoke hearts, salad, bread, and dessert. Oh, MY! I felt a bit like the dolma I’d just devoured.

Neziye entertains us with her ud, her songs, and a poem about her sons.

After marveling at Neziye’s incredible artwork, wearing Uygar out translating for us, and being serenaded by Neziye singing and playing her ud (a rounded 10-stringed instrument), we finally headed to bed in the wee hours.

My favorite of Neziye’s paintings of women of the world

Our day started with a delicious gözleme breakfast (with, of course, olives, tomatoes, and cucumbers). After cleaning up (they never let me help), we all hopped in the car for a tour. We started at Küçükkumla (Little Sandy Place), a seaside village where we strolled along the seaside. As I was snapping photos of the myriad roses that graced every garden, a woman leaned across her gate to offer me one. How sweet! And how very Turkish. I was given roses by three women this weekend: Neziye (when I arrived), this woman, and a young English teacher who practiced her English with me on the bus. She said the rose reminded her of Mohammed. Hmmm…

A profferred rose

From there we drove to the workshop of Dr. Tankut Öktem, a famous and recently deceased sculptor. An impressive collection of bronze-looking statues line the roadside, nestled in the trees. Students continue his work, and inside the warehouse-sized workshop they were building a huge fiberglass image of Ataturk’s face—probably 15 feet across.

Uygar poses next to one of Öktem’s many sculptures.

Next we drove up to Umurbey, a small mountain village above Gemlik. There we visited an outdoor restaurant where each table is housed in its own small cabin perched on the side of the hill, complete with a built-in mangal (barbecue). We could see for miles in every direction. Further up the mountain Neziye and Hakki have land with fruit trees, olive trees, and a small garden. Retired teachers, they’ve always had time off in the summer to tend their garden. (Teachers can retire in their 40’s in Turkey—with an unenviable pension.) Uygar said that most Gemlik residents have a plot of olive trees on the mountain.

Uygar and I then hopped on a bus to Bursa, where I got a royal tour. We saw the Silk Han (Koza Han), the Great Mosque (Ulu Camii), the Covered Bazaar, the Green Mosque (Yeşil Camii), and the famous tombs and clock tower on Tophane, a lovely citadel that overlooks the entire city.

The Ulu Camii, decorated with amazing calligraphy

The Koza Han (silk bazaar)

Let me tell you, by the end of the day we were BUSHED! Luckily, my grey hair got me a seat on the bus for the long ride home. (Uygar’s mother had advised me to grow out my hair and dye it. And stand on the busses? No, thank you!) I was surprised to see that the vast majority of women in Bursa were scarved. Much different than Istanbul!

Neziye had a delicious meal waiting for us when we got home, after which we rolled ourselves into bed. What a day!

After breakfast, Uygar and I took a long stroll along the waterfront, then returned home for yet another impressive Turkish meal, this time with friends. (I tried to keep up with their Turkish conversation, but fell dismally short of comprehension).

a small marina along the Marmara shore

Then, a bus ride home, thanks to Hakki’s fast talking. He was a real hero, given the waiting crowd and only one open seat (which I got). Turkish busses are nicer than Greyhounds; the inside is more like an airplane than a bus, and a steward (quite handsome, dressed in white shirt and tie) serves soft drinks and tea with cookies or cake. The only problem is that there’s no rest room, so you have to hold it. Luckily, there was a rest room on the ferry. Whew! Otherwise busses make a rest stop every three hours or so. It’s a matter of careful planning (which I often forget).

Well, there’s my weekend Banging around Bursa with the Yilmaz family.

At the risk of redundancy, I must share more of my floral enthusiasm. Last Sunday some friends and I walked up to Emirgan Park (my third trip), and we were totally WOWED by the displays. Tulipmania abounds in Istanbul.

After a two-hour walk along the Bosphorus (with a welcome stop for tea and treats), we wended our way through the tea gardens of Emirgan up to the south end of the park. Coming in the side entrance wasn’t all that spectacular, but it made for a much more gradual hike up to the summit. After passing well-peopled playgrounds and picnic areas, we found the tulips. Tulips, tulips, tulips.

They were everywhere, hillside after hillside planted in spectacular arrangements—blossoms of every shape and hue. Gorgeous! Music drew us up even higher—live music. Hooray! Much to our amazement, we emerged on a huge plaza replete with 7-foot tulip sculptures, each painted a unique design by its own Turkish artist. Too fun!

As we wandered through the tulip forest, Libby was deluged by admirers. Children were mesmerized by her, each tentatively reaching to pet her soft fur. Few Turkish people have indoor pets, though street dogs and cats are well cared for by the country’s many animal lovers. Consequently most children find dogs both frightening and fascinating. It wasn’t long before Libby and I were surrounded by children (and their parents), all asking her name, whether she bites, how old she is, etc., etc., etc. At one point Libby looked a bit panicked, but she managed to maintain her company manners. (She loves children.)

One little girl shadowed us for nearly a half hour. Four-year-old Elif was quite taken with Libby, and her father explained to me that his wife is “very clean and doesn’t want a pet in the house.” He and his daughter obviously love animals, and it was clear that Libby was the highlight of Elif’s park visit. (My Turkish has improved to the point that I can actually carry on a limited conversation. Surprise.)

We sat to listen to the music, soft Turkish rock. The sun beamed down as children played, adults sipped tea, and we all reveled in the magic of this lovely afternoon. It continues to strike me how very much people are alike across the globe—this could have been anywhere.

The drawback of having Libby with us was that we couldn’t sit in one of the park’s shaded outdoor restaurants to indulge in French fries—no dogs allowed. Hmphhhh! Oh, well. We walked down to another music venue and found another snack line. Unfortunately, it was about a mile long. We opted for cheese gözleme (like crepes or lefse fried with cheese inside) from vendors outside the park.

Trees, too, are in bloom, both in the park and on campus. I don’t have the names of all of them, but everyone’s favorite is the Joshua tree, with branches clad in brilliant pink blossoms. There’s also a tree with pale pink carnation-like blossoms, and another with elegant blooms whose fuschia petals reach skyward like fingers, revealing their light-colored insides. I have no idea what it is, but it’s gorgeous.

On campus we have a lavender-blossomed tree called a Pavlovya tree. (Definitely a tree to salivate over.) Last but not least is the wisteria, which is in its full glory this week—huge purple clusters that look a bit like grapes drooping across entrances and draping from trees.

Flowers, flowers, everywhere—Istanbul is in its full glory!

Ah, Kapadokya! (Capadoccia) It was a glorious five days, although the sunshine was intermittent and we were a bit short on sweaters. I trekked there with three friends from the States: Sue Nordman (her fourth trip to Turkey), Annie DeBevec (second trip), and Annie’s daughter Jess (first trip). After exploring Istanbul for a few days, we headed to Cappadocia’s lovely Kelebek Hotel, with rooms renovated from original cave dwellings—amazing. Our suite even had a Jacuzzi bath, though using it meant a totally doused bathroom. Oh, well.

We stayed more than busy, mostly hiking and eating, with a bit of shopping sprinkled in. Jess and Susie came home with gorgeous rugs, both beaming after their purchases at Sultan’s Carpets, owned by everyone’s friend Mehmet.

Mehmet, our favorite rug dealer, displays his wares

Our first day we took a tour of the area, a geological wonder. Water and wind have carved amazing limestone and basalt formations of nearly every size and shape into a maze of valleys. We visited an underground city built by Christians for protection from invading armies of Romans and Muslims. Meandering through tiny passageways down about four stories, we were told that it went down many levels further—unbelievable! We saw underground stables, kitchens, sleeping rooms, and wineries—everything a community might need for months spent underground.

Susie, Annie, me, Ali, and Jess rest our weary legs in the underground city

After that we stopped for a delectable meal of soup, bread, and a traditional lamb stew slow-cooked in pottery (which was cracked open to serve). YUM! Afterwards we visited a ceramics factory, then explored two more sites with a variety of rock formations.

Sun shines over the amazing natural sculptures of Cappadocia

A Cappadocia fairy chimney

We finished our day with a hike down through the Rose Valley, named for the rose-colored stone along its rim. It felt a bit like the Grand Canyon, only smaller. Our guide, Ali, showed us the numerous cave homes and hermitages carved into its rock formations. The hike was challenging—a welcome change from walking Istanbul’s streets. That night Annie and Jess succumbed to exhausted sleep while Susie and I went dancing.

The little niches are pigeon roosts, used to collect droppings for fertilizer.

The next day we wandered Göreme, shopping, eating, and getting haircuts—serious haircuts. Sue and I came away feeling a bit like guys, but it’ll grow back. Later that afternoon we explored a valley behind our hotel, discovering chapels, rooms, and more hermitages. Though we had resisted using the word “phallic” on the previous day’s tour, it finally emerged. It was inevitable, I guess. We gradually climbed nearly to the rim of the valley, and we had a bit of a harrowing trek back down. We made it, though, laughing all the way.

Exploring among fairy chimneys behind our hotel

On Wednesday we opted for another hike—this time along the Ihlara Valley, again with our friend Ali. The Ihlara Valley was quite different from what we’d seen, with a picturesque stream running along our 7-kilometer hike. Ali led us up rocky precipices to hidden churches and hermitages we’d have never discovered on our own. I tried to envision it hundreds of years ago when it was bustling with activity.

Remains of an ancient cathedral in the Ilara Valley

Near the end of our hike we ran into villagers gathering wood and working in small garden plots before we happened upon a lovely river’s-edge restaurant, where we enjoyed a delicious meal in the welcoming sunshine.

A hard-working woman we met along the Ilara Valley

We finished the day with a tour of Selime Kalesi a high maze of carved-out rooms and chapels that date back 1200 years (This castle monastery may be the largest religious structure in Cappadocia). I’m sure many died from slipping off the precipices that surround this amazing castle carved into the mountaintop. It was a bit scary at times.

Climbing up into the Selime Kalesi, a mountaintop monastery.

The rain just started as we headed home for a glass of wine with some Koç School friends in the hotel’s cozy lobby.

On our last night we took in a Turkish Night extravaganza, a bit fearful of mediocre food and entertainment. We were the first to arrive, four women alone in the huge dining hall, even more uncertain of what lay ahead. We decided to make the best of it. Well, we were thrilled to discover that the food was fabulous and the entertainment even finer. We saw an abbreviated Mevlana Ceremony (whirling dervish), a belly dancer, and a phenomenal troupe of folk dancers (probably five or six different performances, each with more amazing costumes and spectacular footwork.) We could barely keep up with our meal, which was served course by course throughout the evening. Afterwards, we danced well into the wee hours. Lucky us!

I DO love Turkey, and what joy to share it with friends.

Three happy campers on the Kybele terrace: me, Annie, and Susie. Such larks!

As my friends back in Minnesota shovel yet another few inches of snow off their decks, I marvel at each new blossom on the Robert College Campus. Today we had a fire drill—remember them from your school days? Well, they’ve always been a part of my life. The entire school filed (relatively quietly) out to a small outdoor arena where attendance was taken, we were told it wasn’t a drill after all (Hmmm…today was April Fool’s Day), and we were excused to return to the building. At any rate, on my way back up to the school, I passed a tree covered in huge, lavender trumpet-shaped blossoms, each a few inches long. It was gorgeous—something I’ve never seen. A number of the trees here blossom before any leaves emerge, and the result is spectacular, particularly to one unaccustomed to leaves until the first of June!

Just outside my window is a tree lined with yellow blossoms (though this one has leaves), and on the other side of the building is a bush garbed in brilliant red blooms. Nearly every plant seems to have some kind of bud or blossom. In Minnesota I’d know the names of them all, but here I just marvel. Even the budding leaves here fascinate me—so different! (One pesky plant is familiar—bedstraw, better known to me as Velcro plant—which clings to Libby’s fur every time she ventures off the path. ARAUGHHH!!!!)

As I wander with my camera, Libby’s mission is the campus cats, most of whom know her too well. A little black cat escaped into a tree the other day; chalk one up for Libby. Reportedly our campus hosts seventy cats (mostly strays), nearly equal to the population of on-campus staff. No stray dogs, though—only pets. We even have a cat committee, pledged to catch and neuter every last one. Seems a monumental task, especially as I hear the Tomcats’ lustful yowls at night.

I hear something else at night here, too: the melodic strains of a songbird. Could it be a nightengale? That, too, is a new experience for me, a warm welcome as I wearily climb the long hill to my apartment after a night on the town.

One last note—another sign of spring in Istanbul. While walking with friends near Taksim, we saw a huge crowd of people (mostly men) standing on an overpass. Fishing? Emergency? Accident? Nope. It was the uphill soccer fan crowd, enjoying free nosebleed spots above the stadium—standing room only. There were even police to control the crowd of hundreds. Too funny!

We bypassed the cheering soccer crowds to visit the Pera Museum, where we browsed through a fascinating exhibit of the works of Czech photographer Josef Koudelka. Our tour finished with a flourish: a goodly gawk at The Tortoise Trainer by Osman Hamdi Bey. One of my favorite paintings, it was purchased four years ago by the Koç family for $3,500,000 (certainly the most valuable Turkish painting). I’ve read that it depicts Hamdi Bey’s frustration with Ottoman leaders of his time, intimating that they were as difficult to change (westernize) as training tortoises with a flute (turtles can’t hear, you know, and their hard shells protect them from prodding).

Osman Hamdi Bey was not only a gifted painter, but he was also an intellectual who organized numerous archeological digs in Anatolia (later Turkey) and founded the Istanbul Archeological Museum. Pretty impressive (in spite of the leaders who thwarted his efforts).

We ran into a few friends at the Pera and trekked off together for wine and a light meal in a quaint rooftop café a few blocks away. It was a good day. A great day.

Since my computer fiasco put me a bit behind in my weekly missives, I decided to share a piecemeal look at the past few weeks. I’ve been exploring the area, connecting with old friends, and making new ones. All in all, life is good here in Istanbul.

I joined a group trek to the Halk Art Copper Factory (my third visit) a few weeks ago and came away with some exciting finds. After exploring the entire three stories of new and antique copper wares (thousands of items), the salesmen carried our finds down to their showroom, which displays just one or two of each item. My favorite find was a project for the future. I purchased 40 assorted tempered copper squares that will become a mirror frame once I get home. The copper factory’s ready-made mirrors are gorgeous, but they weigh a ton (serious shipping expense). My other purchases (mostly gifts) were less heavy, but nearly as beautiful.

Copper warehouse shelves of antiques

Halk Art wares in their showroom

Let’s see—I’ve also been doing daily hikes with Libby, morning and evening. We walk down to the Bosphorus every day, and often we head up to the plateau, arguably the most gorgeous spot on campus. Beautifully manicured trees and lawn surround a new running track, but the highlight is an incredible vista overlooking the Bosphorus.

The spectacular view from the plateau

Last week (March 18th) was a Turkish holiday, Çanakkale Day, which marks the Turkish victory over the allied forces at the end of World War I. It was shortly after this bloody battle (Aussies marked particularly huge losses) that Mustafa Kemal Atatürk founded the Turkish Republic. On Turkish holidays every public building is draped with Turkish flags and huge banners of Atatürk, and Robert College is no exception. The patriotism in this country is impressive, in spite of the threat of a growing movement against Atatürk’s secular principles.

Atatürk graces Robert College’s Gould Hall

Last Friday I ferried to the Asian side with a few Robert teachers for a performance of Jean Anouihl’s Antigone at Üsküdar Academy. It which was a fascinating modern version of Sophocles play, adapted to World War II. Afterwards, we ferried back to the European side to catch some wine and spirited conversation (there’s little of the former to be had in Üsküdar).

Saturday I spent the day with Tony and Marnie Paulus, friends who will be leaving Istanbul for a new life in Florida. I showed them around the campus, then we basked in the sun, enjoying the spectacular view of the Bosphorus. Next we headed up to the park at Emirgan to check out the latest development in tulips (lovely—again!)

Not exactly a tulip, but gorgeous nonetheless—

(Actually it’s Fritillaria imperialis rubra maxima, in case you care!) 

From there we headed to Sultanahmet and wandered near the Grand Bazaar. As Koç School Director, Tony seldom gets to explore these areas, and he enjoyed it. We capped off our day with a dinner at the Taş Han’s Arkat Night Club—stageside seats, (thanks to my friend Kemal Ocak) for a floor show for singing, belly dancing, folk dancing, and EVERYBODY dancing. It was great fun, but we old fogies bowed out long before the bulk of the crowd.

Yet another Turkish flower

As you can see, I’m staying busy. I’ve devoted much of the past two weeks to correcting Yearly Homework Projects, poetry projects, and English exams. (I figure about 30 hours total.) I try to keep my paperwork at school, but during exam time, it’s impossible. Ah, well, I chose to be an English teacher, didn’t I? I’m not complaining, mind you. I still love teaching, and heck—it’s my ticket overseas!

Some friends told me last weekend that I should find my way up to Emirgan to see the spring tulips in bloom—incredible, they said. Spectacular! Unforgettable!

Yup, it was.

Of course, getting there was an adventure in itself. After waiting all morning for my laundry (wash only, as the dryer is hardly better than piling wet clothes in the bathtub and waving a hair dryer at them), I draped sheets, clothes, and sundries around my apartment, then headed out to enjoy the sunshine and 70-degree day. Ah, heaven!

Libby is always game for a walk, though I didn’t warn her this would be a long one. (Not that she’d have minded.) We headed down the hill (puppy poop stop), through the security gate (puppy pee stop), and off to the north along the glittering Bosphorus. Our walk, as usual, was punctuated by curious street dogs, quayside fishermen, simit sellers, a balloon man, and countless Sunday strollers. Sunday is “Pazar” here—it means what it sounds like: bazaar. The traffic was “çok kalıbalık”—very congested; we walked faster than the cars.

After an hour we passed the Rumeli Castle, which I have to visit again, asI’ve lost all my photos in a computer meltdown (actually, a laptop wine-down).

After about two hours of walking, we stopped for a breather, a cup of tea and “tost”, sort of a panini-style grilled cheese, in an open street tea garden in Emirgan. The wide cobbled street stretched up from the Bosphorus, filled with tables, chairs, and happy Turks. I was the only “yabancı” (foreigner) in the whole area, which was nice. I chatted with some older men at the next table who were tickled that I knew some Turkish, and of course they loved Libby. They gave me directions to the park up the hill, and soon my little black buddy and I trekked off.

The park was filled with plots of tulips, daffodils, hyacinths, and other blossoms unfamiliar to me, all in superb displays.

I recently learned that tulips originally came from Turkey. (News to me!) They were cultivated as early as 1000 A.D., and they became a symbol for the Ottoman Empire during the 1500’s when Sultan Süleyman popularized them. The bulbs (seeds?) were exported to Europe later that century, though it wasn’t until the 1700’s that tulips became a symbol of wealth and prestige.

The first tulip festivals are charmingly depicted on a gardener’s web site, Tesselaar:

“It was during the early 1700’s that the Turks began what was probably the first of the Tulip Festivals…held at night during a full moon. Hundreds of exquisite vases were filled with the most breath-taking Tulips, crystal lanterns were used to cast an enchanting light over the gardens whilst aviaries were filled with canaries and nightingales that sang for the guests. Romantically, all guests were required to wear colours which harmonised with the flowers!”*

It was during that era that the Dutch began experimenting with tulip bulbs, though the Turks outpaced them in their love of the blossoms for years to come.

Well, our wanderings through the park at Emirgan were enchanting—that is, until my camera batteries wore out. After that, we succumbed to the attentions of countless children charmed by my little black Libby. It was darling. I never cease to be amazed that Turks either love dogs or they’re petrified of them; there’s no middle ground.

Friends for Libby Lou

After four hours of walking, I decided a bus ride home would be in order. Unfortunately, bus drivers aren’t particularly enamored of dogs. Bummer! Plan B was the ferry, scheduled to arrive at Emirgan at 5:15. At 5:30, those of us waiting for the ferry realized that there was tiny red writing at the bottom of the ferry schedule: “begins April 15th” ARAUGHHH!!!

Maybe a private boat?

So—Libby and I began the long trek home, me feeling a bit chilled and hoping to make it before dark, Libby no longer straining at her leash. After about a half hour I gave in to a taxi driver who honked as he approached. It felt GREAT to sit, though it was a slow trek, probably nearly as slow as walking. It was a treat to chat with the driver in my limited Turkish. He’d had a rough day, but he was happy to be down on the Bosphorus. So were we.

“Yavaş, yavaş” (slowly, slowly). My Turkish is improving!

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*”The History of the Tulip.” Tesselaar gardening at its best. 20 Mar 2008
<http://www.tesselaar.net.au/flowerandgarden/thetulip.asp>.

Last weekend my quiet (NOT!) world on the Bosphorus was sparked by two delightful young women: my Australian niece Laura and her friend Anna, university exchange students in Vilnius, Lithuania. When I arrived home Friday they were happily ensconced in my apartment, thrilled to be in Istanbul. Needless to say, their visit was a whirlwind. Friday afternoon we caught a bus and tram to Sultanahmet. The bus was PACKED—sardines-ville. And HOT. (They don’t believe in opening windows here, but that’s another story.) What with an evening of restauranteurs, shopkeepers, and carpet sellers, the girls got a good dose of Turkish hospitality, making Anna a new convert to Turkey. Laura and I already love it.

Anna and Laura Marie

After a huge dinner and a trek to see the Blue Mosque in its night-lit glory, we hopped back on the tram to head home, collapsing exhausted into our beds after the steep hike up the infamous Robert College hill, a fair trade-off for a great location.

Saturday the girls slept in, and after a late breakfast we headed off on foot (with Libby) to Ortaköy, one of the the Bosphorus’ glittering treasures. Just a half hour walk from my lojman, it offers an artisan’s market, tantalizing street foods, a striking many-windowed, water-side mosque, and a Bosphorus ferry. What else could we ask?

One of many jewelry displays

After an hour browsing displays of jewelry, linens, clothing, and trinkets along the cobbled walkways, we relaxed with a cup of tea, watching children feed and chase pigeons on the cobbled square. The sun brightened every cranny of this quaint waterside village. Actually, Ortaköy feels much smaller than it is—with about 200,000 people stretching up the hill from the Bosphorus, it’s one of the most popular spots in Istanbul.

Pigeon chasing can’t be beat!

After tea, we ambled over to where a Bosphorus ferry departs every 20 minutes. Ours was a smaller ferry, a quaint, friendly vessel for our one-hour water tour to the Rumeli Castle and back. Libby loved it (of course), and we all reveled in the stunning early-spring sunshine, in spite of the occasional chilly breeze. Thank goodness for clear plastic zip-down windows. Homes on the Asian side were significantly larger, newer, and better kept than those on the European side; it’s cheaper to live in Asia. Of course, homes anywhere near the Bosphorus are at a premium. I shudder to think what I’d pay for my little campus apartment.

Hamsi (anchovy) fisherman with the Ortaköy Mosque in the background

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We disembarked famished from the ferry—eager to try the kumpir (stuffed baked potatoes), gözleme (Turkish-style flat stuffed crepes), and waffles (filled with fruits and sweets of every kind). Yum. Again—YUM! I hadn’t been all that excited about the kumpir, but take a baked potato, mash it together with butter and cheese, then add pickles, olives, tomatoes, cream cheese, and whatever else you love, and it’s sheer ambrosia. I’d walk to Ortaköy just for kumpir. The spinach gözleme was nice, and the fruit-and-chocolate-filled waffle was nothing to scoff at. Another YUM!

The delicious, inimitable KUMPIR!

Finally we visited the mosque. Lovely from the outside, I’d never been inside. Big mistake. Laura took Libby so I could go in to take a few pictures, and I was entranced with mosque’s natural light. Though its exterior is striking, its interior is beyond description. A number of men were at prayer while a small group chatted in a window near the pulpit. I peeked into the women’s area, a totally separate room with windows overlooking the Bosphorus. Far less than what male worshippers enjoyed, but sweet in its own way. I have a hard time with that, though; it strikes me as unfair.

Ortaköy Mosque, interior

The women’s room—Ortaköy Mosque

A little girl named Selin walked Libby around the shopping area on her leash, totally enamored with her. Such fun for both! Finally we headed home—on the bus, then succumbed to a well-deserved nap.

That was just the START of our day. We dined and danced in Taksim, catching the last bus home at 2 A.M. It was packed (of course), so we stood all the way home, then climbed the long Robert College hill yet again.

But you know what? It was a great day.

Istanbul ROCKS!

On Saturday afternoon I took Libby for a long walk up the Bosphorus to the Rumeli Castle, one of the most picturesque sites along this historical waterway. The sky was clear and the air brisk, a perfect day for a stroll. It took us about an hour to get there, weaving between hamsi (anchovy) fishermen along the walkway. The screams of gulls, the booming of ship horns, and the sparkling chatter of children punctuated our walk as well. No doubt, I live in the most beautiful section of Istanbul.

Stretching up the hill from the water’s edge (now from the road’s edge), the castle is an imposing sight from any vantage point. It’s three medeival towers feel more European than Ottoman, though the very name Rumeli means “belonging to Anatolia”—a certain reference to the once-growing Ottoman Empire on the Asian side of the Bosphorus.

The Rumeli Castle was built by Mehmet the Second, known as Fatih—the Conqueror. It was constructed in the spring and summer of 1452, 40 years before Columbus’s famous voyage across the Atlantic). Built on a European hillside at the narrowest section of the Bosphorus (about 750 yards across), it was built to help the Ottomans conquer Constantinope, now Istanbul. A smaller castle across the water, the Anadolu Hisarı (Anatolian Castle), also helped Mehmet to achieve this ultimate goal of cutting off communication and aid from the Black Sea. Actually, according to historian John Freely, “the castle was originally called Boğas-kesen, a sort of pun which means both ‘cut-throat’ and ‘cutter of the strait.” (The Turkish name for the Bosphorus is “Boğaz”, which means both strait and throat.)

It is believed that Mehmet himself drew the general designs for this medeival fortress, which measured up to 275 yards long and 135 yards wide at its greatest points. The construction of each of the fortress’s three main towers was supervised by a different Pasha (vezir/advisor) of Mehmet the Conquerer, with his Grand Vezir in charge of the main one at the water’s edge. In addition to the three major towers are fifteen subordinate towers of various shapes and sizes. The walls of the larger towers range from 21 to 30 feet thick and the walls range from 16 to 50 feet high. It took 3000 men to complete the project in an amazing four months.

The Ottomans conquered Constantinople within a year after the construction of this castle, toppling the Byzantine capital and claiming it for the rising Ottoman Empire, which was to rule for nearly 500 years until 1923, when the Turkish Republic was established.

We climbed the stairs to the castle entrance, a little uncertain of our fate, but fortunately, the castle welcomes dogs as well as tourists. Whew! What met us inside was spectacular; LOTS of stone stairs up to the towers and ramparts—with NO railings. ARAUGHH!!! Libby’s balance is far better than mine, and she was eager to explore every inch of the castle.

Inside the fortress there is a huge amphitheater, now used for outdoor concerts in the summer. There is also a minaret from a mosque built by Mehmet the Conquerer, although the mosque was destroyed by fire in 1907.

After scrambling around the ramparts for an hour, I decided to stop at a restaurant just outside the gates for a snack of tost (grilled cheese) and çay (tea)—for about five times the usual cost. Live and learn. Of course, it was lovely to relax in the sun by the Bosphorus, and the waiters made a fuss over Libby, bringing her enough cheese for five tost sandwiches.

A good time was had by all.

This photo of the Rumeli Castle at night comes from:

http://www.skyscrapercity.com/showthread.php?t=171587&page=2

This web site has incredible photos of the Rumeli Castle, though I can’t find a name to attribute the photo to. Check it out!