Arriving in Turkey was indeed arriving in a different world. Equal does of curiosity, excitement and adrenaline kept me alert after a long and sleepless flight. What a pleasure and relief to meet our guides, Ayhan and Cem, who would become family over the course of the week ahead. But I didn't know that yet. I just appreciated their ready smiles and the efficiency with which they got our large and somewhat unruly group settled into Istanbul. Needless to say, our first foray was in search of Turk kahvesi pastries. It was the first of many taste sensations, and I'm afraid I've returned to the States with a baklava addiction! How can one describe Istanbul? Sucj a huge, multi-faceted city, steeped like traditional cay in centuries of history and culture. The old and the new meld together - the ancient bazaar with young vendors speaking english as they sneak a look at their cell phones, the ultra-modern architecture of the Zaman newspaper complex in contrast to the domed Hagia Sofia our van stopped in the inevitable traffic jams watched over by silent, ancient ruins of the old city wall. At the mosques and Topkapi Palace, my visual senses were overwhelmed by sophisticated designs and artisanry. Stunning tiles, bejeweled scabbards, richly patterned carpets and tapestries - for an artist this was pure sensory overload. It is one thing to see images in a book; it's an entirely different experience to see them in person. I wonder how Turkey's immense visual memory affects contemporary artists. A visit to Istanbul's modern art museum is on my wish list for someday in the future.
The day Ephesus was postcard-picture-perfect. Under an azure sky, we wandered the ruins imagining what this political and intellectual center must have been like in its day. Besides information from our guides, we had our own expert in ancient philosophy, Heidi, who quoted passages from Herodotus and other ancient texts when we could pull he away form taking pictures. By the time we reached Kemer near Antalya, we were ready for respite. There is nothing like the sun and sea to clear ones head, especially when the clear water turns form cobalt blue to turquoise as it flows into bays and coves. I could have stayed for days in the idyllic spot, but we were gently herded into the van for the drive to Konya. Our shepherds, Ayhan and Cem, had now been christened "Captain Ayhan" (replete with a captains hat purchased by George) and "The Gem". We could not have wished for two people more patient, warm and caring. In spite of the stress of being responsible for so many of us, they managed to maintain a sense of humor and goodwill, not to mention the requisite flexibility to deal with inevitable glitches and individual requests. We met with the warmth and generosity among the families who hosted us for dinners. Besides days of shopping and cooking to provide us with extraordinary local dishes, each family afforded insights into their lives and customs. It was a joy to be greeted with "hello" by the young kids and teenagers at the first of our three dinners. We sat with an extended family, which I never quite sorted out (uncles and aunts, nieces and nephews, neighbors) - felt like one of my family gatherings! Each of the next two dinners gave us different glimpses into the lives of the Turkish people, the common denominator being their genuine hospitality.
Konya was a different slice of culture, including the whirling dervish ritual performed by young men at the cultural center. My snapshots from Konya capture the paradoxes inherent in the melding of sacred and secular, ancient and contemporary. The minarets of a mosques frame a high-rise tower in the distance; elderly women in long garb and head scarves walk eyes downcast past a young couple embracing; the red flag of Ataturk's modern Turkey flaps above a decorative frieze carved in the years of the Ottoman Empire; Byzantine winged warriors adorn a granite slab next to Arabic verses.
We encountered yet a different environment the next day as we explored early christian churches carved into the caves in Cappadocia. Surreal rock formation came to life - impossible to capture with my camera, though I took dozens of pictures. What was it like for the first people to settle in this vast a mystical landscape? Is it any wonder that a Christian ascetic earned sainthood ny spending his years perched in prayer on one of these rock pillars rising toward the heavens?
I had promised myself to be brief, but in Turkish time what do a few extra minutes mean anyway? I certainly can't end this here without expressing my gratitude to the Turkish Cultural Center and to Nazareth College for giving me this opportunity to expand my knowledge and vision. Turkey has become a real place with real people, not just a textbook description. I hope I can repay the many kindnesses of the Turkish people by offering my hospitality to visitors and students from Turkey. My home is always open. Hos geldiniz!
With gratitude,
Lynn Duggan
