Memories of Turkey
Today my thoughts are with Turkey, where four years ago I traveled with friends and experienced the nexus of East and West.
Some of my fondest memories are from that trip: watching passers-by over Turkish coffee in the street cafes of Istanbul, haggling with rug dealers in the Grand Bazaar, the palpable residue of antiquity. And images like this one from the seaside village of Kuşadası, of local people just going about their day.
There was unassuming charm around every corner of nearby Selçuk, along the Western coast. If this car was in Greenpoint it would be pure hipster vintage. Here it’s just somebody’s rusty old car.
And then there were the cats.
Lounging in the sun upon tumbled marble columns, curled up on a stone wall along Topkapı Palace, or dutifully sitting in a box in an outdoor market in Istanbul — cats had the absolute run of the place.
These cats were lounging amid the ruins of Ephesus, founded by the Greeks three thousand years ago and abandoned in the 15th century. I sensed that these cats somehow understood symbolism of their dominance over the remains of early Western civilization which now lay crumbling beneath their paws.
If you want to know what the world will look like after the fall of mankind, it will be something like this:
Here is a (rare) cat-free view of the center of Ephesus, including the Library of Celsus, center-left:
By the time we arrived in November, 2012 the Arab Spring had settled into a state of apparent stability, although opposition groups in Syria had begun fighting the Assad regime. The first waves of Syrian refugees were crossing the Turkish border. But that was in the rural southeast, hundreds of miles from Istanbul or even Cappadocia, the mountainous central region we planned to visit. We noticed a military presence in a few central locations. Locals seemed largely unconcerned.
Back in Istanbul, we stayed in the central district of Sultanahmet, steps away from the Blue Mosque, pictured here, and not far from where a bomb was detonated earlier this year:
I’ve visited fish markets in New York, Hong Kong, and Tokyo. But the fish market in Istanbul is really in a class all its own. And it offers a glimpse into a world that feels lost to the ravages of modernity.
And where there are fish, there are cats. Lots of cats. Strolling past the market stalls, lounging along the boardwalk, darting between the legs of restaurant patrons.
We found this little guy perched on a staircase by the sea, who acknowledged us briefly before turning and walking away.
Near the fish market is a walkway along the Sea of Marmara, at the mouth of the Bosphorus Strait. This array of cargo ships dotting the horizon only hints at the sheer volume of global trade that passes through the region.
The call to prayer can sound exotic to the Western ear. I found it to be aboslutely enchanting. I recorded this at a park nearby:
Later, we spent a few days in Cappadocia, a few hours flight from Istanbul. The legendary rock formations and cave dwellings there are not to be missed. Early Christian churches with frescoes dating from the fifth century are literally carved out of the porous rock.
Nearby, we attended a performance by the dancers of the Sufi order of Mawlaw’īyya (Mevlevi), inspired by the poet Rumi in the fourteenth century (known to most as the “Whirling Dervishes”).
After driving through Cappadocia for a few days, we flew back to Instanbul to relax before the end of our trip. All told, our trip to Turkey lasted about ten days.
We couldn’t have imagined the turmoil that would unfold in the following months and years: the trickle of refugees that would grow into a surge, the thousands that would die in desperation to reach Greece and the safety of the EU, the harshening policies of Erdoğan, the rise of ISIS, the bombing in Sultanahmet near our hotel, the bombing along İstiklal Avenue where we had strolled among the shops, the airport attacks, or the attempted military coup.
(You know things are bad when Wikipedia has a disambiguation page for “2016 Istanbul bombing”.)
I’m not convinced the world is any more chaotic than usual, despite the stream of political upheaval and injustice from around the world endlessly scrolling in front of our faces. It’s easy to forget that generally, we live in a period of safety and stability that’s unparalleled in human history. But that surely provides little comfort to those affected by violence and injustice.
I’m grateful to have experienced Turkey when I did. It was not even four years ago, but looking back it feels like a kind of age of innocence.
