Cappadocia Photos

Taylor and I spent the last few days exploring the Cappadocia region in central Turkey. The region is famous for its otherworldly landscapes carved out by millions of years of nature as well as being home to some early Christian history, including many churches and monasteries carved out of the caves.  Many of the caves are still used as homes, hotels and stores throughout the region.

A rock and cave formation outside of the town of Goreme, where we stayed.

One of the many paintings on the walls and ceilings of the cave churches at the Goreme Open Air Museum.

Another painting over the entrance to a cave church at Goreme Open Air Museum.

Taylor surrounded by a few of the rock formations just outside of Goreme.

The town of Goreme in the foreground with Mount Erciyes in the background.

And on the second day in Cappadocia, it snowed.

Taylor in the Kaymakli underground city. The underground cities in the region were used to hide from invading armies during the Hittite, Roman and Byzantine eras. This underground city included an estimated 500 chambers, not all of which have been excavated yet. The underground city had a stable, a winery and a multiple churches in addition to housing, common areas and ventilation shafts.

The town of Uchisar, as seen from Pigeon Valley.

HD Time Lapse Views of Istanbul

In my inbox this morning was a press release from a website called HDtimelapse.net telling me they had just recorded time lapse videos all over Istanbul. Better yet, they are free for a regular download (you must pay for HD quality). Check out the city from many hot spots, including Aya Sofya, the Galata Tower, The Grand Bazaar, and the Bosphorus Bridge. A very cool site indeed. Check it out here.

Off the beaten path: Camel Wrestling

“How many children do you have?” I asked him as he handed me my second double raki. My Turkish, usually sluggish and stumbling was clicking this morning. When I am excited, as I was about this camel wrestling tournament, I didn’t bother to think, I only spoke.

Fatih was short and stocky with a forward facing newsies cap and the kind of smile that only comes from drinking in the morning. As I walked by, I had wished him a happy holiday and he had responded by offering me a drink and a meal. The camel sausage he gave me wasn’t tough and chewy, as I guessed it would be, instead it was spiced and juicy like a bratwurst. The raki helped it down, at least better than the turnip juice Fatih’s brother was drinking.

“I only have one son. He’s young and small.” I understood him somehow, and it was probably the most complicated Turkish sentence I had comprehended in three months. Until his next one. “But it is no problem, he is small, but has a cock like a mule and balls the size of a camel’s.” He stuck his arm into the air and cupped his other hand under his elbow, just to make sure I had the full picture.

Sometimes, the Gods of Travel give you a moment so strange and surreal that you hardly believe it, even as it goes on around you. After the few morning glasses of raki, my sudden ability to understand Turkish, and the two hundred camels decorated like bollywood dancers, this was becoming one of them.

The morning had started off normal enough. Taylor, her parents and myself left the hotel in Kusadasi early to make the three hour drive to see the ruins of Aphrodisias. About a half hour into the drive, with no signs of civilization, except for a few abandoned buildings, we see two fabulously dressed camels strutting down the road. Maybe a kilometer further, there are two more in the back of a flatbed truck. After our guide, Tamer, leaned out the window to talk with the truck driver, he popped back in with his signature grin, he couldn’t have caught me more off-guard with his question:

“So, would you like to see some camel wrestling?”

As we followed the camel truck, which would later be cleaned of its shit-piles and used as seating, we pulled off the pavement and onto a dirt road; a town rose out of the dust. Though this town was only a few square blocks, it had seen more camels in one day than all the ashtrays in all of Turkey. Each one was dressed like it was going to an Indian wedding. Bridles, saddles, blankets and ornaments of shells and beads covered the animals in bright greens, blues, reds and yellows. Some had their names sewn on silk blankets that hung over their ass end. One had been bought from, what I can only imagine is a camel dealer, in Iran for $110,000 and trotted around the town with blue and green crocheted over nearly every inch of it like a clown’s custom-made fishnet stocking.

Our van may have passed through the town quickly, but there was no passing the caravan of camels trudging along the road that led to the dusty field of sand where the event would take place. It wasn’t until we arrived at the field, where the security fence separating man from beast was made up of construction cones and caution tape, where the front row was made of pickup trucks and tractors and flatbeds were used behind them to create stadium seating, that I realized I had forgotten to ask one very important question. Amidst all the exoticism and allure of the idea of camel wrestling, I still wasn’t sure…

How, exactly, does camel wrestling work?

Camel wrestling takes place during the mating season of the camels, late November and December of every year. Originally it is from Saudi Arabia, but can be seen in small towns on the Aegean coast of Turkey, near Izmir, every year as well. The tradition began with nomadic tribes, probably beginning with the words: “I bet my camel can beat up your camel.” See, this is not a man versus beast activity, but pure camel on camel action. And, since the first time two men let their camels push each other around with their necks the sport has evolved into…. Well, no, it hasn’t really evolved. Its still two big, dumb slow and clumsy animals trying to knock one another over with their front legs and necks.

Camel wrestling could be described as the NASCAR of the Aegean Coast: It takes place away from civilization, with more fanfare and spectacle in the build up than in the action and is mostly used as an excuse for backwoods boys to have a few drinks before noon.

The matches are judged to determine a winner, which sometimes may simply be the animal who doesn’t run away. They matches end after ten minutes, after an animal shows an unwillingness to fight, or a camel has his head pinned to the ground by his opponent. Prior to the fight, females are paraded by the athletes, to get them hard in the harness and foaming at the mouth for either a mate, or an ass to kick. Sometimes a camel can fight up to ten times in a day and may receive up to $25,000 for winning the day’s tournament. On this day, though, the victor won only $2,000 and a carpet. All proceeds for this event were going to charity. Every scarf or sausage sold, every ten lira ticket was going to build a new school for this tiny town on a dirt road in the middle of Nowhere, Turkey.

Camel wrestling may be strange, it may be slow, but, its also a hell of a lot of fun. As the only tourists, and probably the only out-of-towners at the event, we had a front row seat to the kind of cultural event most people never get the chance, or take the chance to see. With the morning raki, the camel sausage, the musicians and the families lining the field, this was one hundred percent rural Turkey and I am glad I got to see it.

The House of the Virgin Mary

The House of the Virgin Mary is on a forested hillside a few kilometers from the city of Ephesus. It is one of many sites in Turkey vital the history of Christianity. As you walk onto the premises, signs remind you that this is a religious site full of pilgrims and that you should be very respectful. Just past these signs, you are bombarded with the same souvenir tents, with the same loud, pushy salesmen, selling the same blue evil eyes, Turkish tea sets and silk scarves that line the entrance to every tourist site in the country. So much for respecting the religious pilgrims.

At first being at the House of the Virgin Mary was extremely uncomfortable for me. Mostly, because it isn’t her actual house. There is evidence to suggest that following the crucifixion of Christ, Mary followed St. John to Ephesus. And by evidence, I mean Bible verses. But, there is no specification as to how long she stayed there, where she lived, or what happened to her after she arrived there. Instead, the basis of this religious site is the vivid dream of a 19^th century nun. After seeing a vision of Mary`s house in her sleep, she came to Ephesus to search for it. When she came upon the foundation of a small, two-room, ancient house on a hillside, she decreed that this was in fact the House of the Virgin Mary. The Vatican agreed, rebuilt the house, and now people come from everywhere to visit and light candles.

For the most of the time I was at this site, I couldn’t shake the discomfort. I didn’t find it to be a peaceful place, like most seemed to. Instead, this place was a microcosm of all of the issues I take with organized religion: It has no factual basis, but instead is founded on the hearsay and whims of a few zealots, substantiated by larger, more powerful groups of people with financial and political motivation to convince mass amounts of people of its indisputable truth. For Turkey, the money that the pilgrims bring in is certainly no reason to dispute its accuracy. For the Vatican, finding Mary’s house can only help affirm and fuel the faith that believers already have. There is no motivation from either party to find objectivity about this stone foundation in the woods.

I sat for a while, watching people file through the house, light candles, and weep. I wondered how they could believe so wholeheartedly, unquestioningly, that this was where Mary lived. Then, I realized, this was not the most ridiculous idea they held. Most also believed the woman had been impregnated by a giant omnipotent man in the sky. And that the Vatican is motivated by benevolence. As I contemplated all this, my fire for logic and reason burned hotter with every candle that was lit.

That is, until I saw the wall. Down the hillside from the house, passed the wells where worshipers wash themselves, there is a stone wall covered in tissues, ribbons and clothing scraps, each with a different prayer written on it. As visitors walk toward the exit, they put down their most important hopes on to these scraps and leave them, believing that the significance of this house will help them come true. I watched elderly women and young boys, covered Muslims and devout Catholics, write their prayers here. This wall, was the single most concentrated forum for positive thinking I have ever seen. While I may not be a man of faith, I am a man who knows the power of positivity. I realized then, that though I take many issues with religion, this should not be one of them. This is not a place that divides people or fills them with hatred and anger. This is some of the good that faith does. This place, holy or not, unites people. Even if I don’t agree with the means, I sure like that result. So, if Muslims, Christians and Jews can all share their dreams with this wall, then hell, why not a Godless heathen like me.

I took my time to think of just the right phrase to post on this mass message board to the universe. Unable to find a pen, I traced the words onto a tissue and tied it to the wall. A small drop in the sea of hope for humanity. On it, I wrote: May we all see the good we have in common and see how to act for the common good.

My note, like all the rest will be burned soon, to make room for the next few weeks worth of prayers. While I still don’t think the house actually belonged to Mary or plan to attend mass anytime soon, maybe in some small way this place converted me. After all, I came in patronizing and divisive and left at peace; and, finding peace, however small, is the purpose of faith in the first place, right?

The tomb of St. John at St. John`s Church, also located near Ephesus.

Lesser Known Notes

Last weekend, Taylor, her parents and myself spent a few days wandering the ruins of ancient man’s achievements. We saw some of the more famous and popular sites that this country offers: Troy and Ephesus. To learn more about these sites, refer to the previous post. I found, though, that while Ephesus was a magnificent glimpse of ancient life, the lesser traveled sites of Pergamon, Aphrodisias and Hierapolis to be much more fulfilling, if only for the lack of crowds.

The theatre on the mountainside of Pergamon.

At Pergamon, there are two remaining sites worth seeing. The first is the acropolis, where the governors and nobles lived and convened. Situated on top of a small mountain, you can get a view not only of the ruins, but of the surrounding modern town as well. The ruins here are not as well preserved as what you can find at Ephesus, but as the saying goes: location, location, location. With a few well preserved pillars still standing and a theatre built directly into the mountainside, all it takes is a little imagination to see how stunning this place once was to incoming visitors.

The other spot at Pergamon that once attracted visitors from across the world is the Askplepion, the world’s first mental hospital. Here, in the valley below the acropolis, is where the wealthy brought their insane from Greece, Anatolia and Mesopotamia. At this hospital, where a few buildings, tunnels, and patient rooms can still be seen, people were treated by hearing the relaxing sounds of running water and positive reinforcement. Oh, and by having baskets of snakes and scorpions poured over them.

A pillar with snake designs at the Asklepion in Pergamon.

Further southeast of Pergamon on a grassy plain is the ancient city of Aphrodesias. Here, the remains of a sculpting school provide photo opportunities at every turn. Like the other cities there is an enormous theatre and columned streets. But, the real pleasure of seeing this city is its stadium. Lying short and long outside the city, it looks like a 2500 year old version of the Rose Bowl, where athletes convened in front of 60,000 people to wrestle, run, jump and throw. The last thing to see before you leave Aphrodisias is the gate to the temple of Aphrodite. This structure stands in an open grassy field and towers over visitors. We were fortunate to see it just as the sun was setting, lighting up its marble with yellows, oranges, purples and reds.

The stadium at Aphrodisias. Photo taken by Sandy Smith.

The entrance to the Temple of Aphrodite at Aprodisias. Photo taken by Sandy Smith.

The last ancient city we visited was Hierapolis. Located in the modern Turkish town of Pamukkale, the most impressive thing about this site is its location. It was built on the ridge of thermal white calcium deposits. From the distance, the ridge looks like a snow covered mountain. From up close, it is rock solid white calcium with hot thermal springs and pools running down its face. The ancients believed that these springs had medicinal healing powers and travelers would come from around the world to soak in them. And, I guess, still do. The ruins here are not as impressive as the other sites, but seeing them on the top of the calcium deposits helps visitors realize how unique this city was. Now, the most well-preserved aspect of the city is the necropolis, or cemetery. If you walk through the necropolis, you can see gravesites and tombs that stretch for kilometers along a hillside and cover three different civilizations.

A tomb from the necropolis of Hierapolis.

The calcium deposits at Pamukkale make the ridge look like a snow-covered hill.

Troy and Ephesus

A statue of Hercules at Ephesus.

Over the last weekend, Taylor, her parents and I wondered throughout Western Turkey, mostly taking in the religious and historical sites of antiquity. The sites we saw can easily be categorized into two groups: the famous and popular sites of Troy and Ephesus, and there superior but lesser known counterparts of Pergamon, Aphrodisias and Heirapolis. Today, I’ll discuss the former.

The most eye-opening part of exploring the sites of antiquity was how inaccurate my preconceived notions were. I am the only person who thinks of these ancient cities as being in dry and barren landscapes. Of all the ancient cities we visited, not one fit this profile. Instead they stand in picturesque places with rolling fields and forested hills, where poplar trees once lined their marble streets. We also tend to think of these places as being far less advanced than they actually were. Rather, they were much better city planners than many places today, complete with functioning water delivery systems, sewage systems and strategically placed marketplaces, libraries, government buildings and brothels.

The first of the cities we visited was Troy, where nine distinct civilizations have been built, one on top of the other. The most important thing to know if you are going to visit Troy is this: Go here first, or don’t go here at all. The preservation of buildings and artifacts at Ephesus and the other cities make Troy look like a caveman’s garage sale. If you make this your last archaeological adventure, you will find the most exciting thing here are the kittens. There are some wall foundations and many columns that now lie in pieces on the ground, but the rest has been ransacked by a 19^th century German treasure hunter. If this is the first archaeological site that you see, as it was for me, the age of the place makes these scraps impressive. But after viewing the other sites Turkey has to offer, it will not be worth the trip or the ticket price.

The most exciting thing about Troy may be the kittens.

Moreover, many people (read: historically ignorant tourists) may expect to see the remains of a wooden horse or the grave markers of Helen, Hector or Achilles. But, like most other books from its age, Homer’s Iliad is nothing but spectacular fiction, without a shred of evidence to be found here or anywhere else.

Ephesus, Efes in Turkish, by comparison will leave anyone breathless. In addition to giving a full picture of life 2000 years ago, it gives you a respect for the ancient ingenuity in architecture and art. To build a city of its size – 750,000 at one point – covered in marble with every inch detailed in sculptures of heroes, governors and gods would have taken more wealth and will power than is easily conceivable. It would require armies of artisans working around the clock from every corner of its conquered lands.

The library of Ephesus

The highlights of Ephesus are its theatre, its library, and its ongoing excavation of wealthy homes. The theatre, which we were told held up to 30,000 people, is the best way to see the transformation of the city from city-state origins through the Roman Empire. As with most of the theatres in antiquity, it began in the Greek style: only three stairways with a full 360 degree stage. When the Romans conquered, they added more staircases and cut the stage to a semi-circle, among other aesthetic changes. The library, one of the three most important in antiquity is a three-story achievement of beauty and detail. Every inch is covered with a carved design, inscription or statue. Now, only the front of the building remains, leaving it like the facade of a western movie set. Still, it looms large over the hoards of tourists, begging them to wonder what kind of knowledge was kept behind this shrine. Also, if you are willing to pay the extra 15 lira to explore it, the homes of the nobility is the best view you can find of the lifestyles of the rich. The frescoes, mosaics and courtyard here are as well fresh as you’ll find without a time machine.

A mosaic of Medusa from the home of an ancient Ephesus aristocrat.

Beyond its big attractions, much of Ephesus’ charm lies in the details which can only a careful exploration or a guide can help you find. You can find the nooks used to chain up criminals along the main street, or iron rings along the ground used to hold down the torches which lit the path at night. The latrines here are in tact enough to be used in case of a tourist’s emergency (though it may get you kicked out) and some of the earliest board games and advertisements are scattered on marble across the site.

The only downside to Ephesus are the crowds of people that it attracts. We were fortunate to visit in the off-season, but Taylor’s parents and our guide Tamer shared stories of bumper to bumper human traffic from previous visits. With the amount of people they described, getting a good picture could have been impossible. If you are concerned with the crowds, Aphrodisias, can give you as complete a picture of ancient life  of the masses without the actual masses.

Seeing Ephesus, Troy and the other sites will also certainly get a visitor asking large questions about civilization and humanity, though the questions and revelations will certainly be different for each person. For me, everywhere I looked I was reminded of mankind’s constant hubris. Of our belief that our way of life, our achievements, or even ourselves will last forever. It is clear to me that the majority of us still think this way. Ancient sites are a reminder that this simply isn’t true, and maybe it’s time we stopped fooling ourselves into thinking that it is, before our cities lie in ruins too.

The theatre of Ephesus, viewed from the street leading to the port.

An inscribed wall with the library of Ephesus in the backround.

Gelibolu

The Gallipoli Peninsula , or Gelibolu in Turkish, is now a pristine national park in Turkey squeezed thinly between the Aegean Sea and the Dardanelles Straits. Here, the trees are plentiful, but just sparse enough to make out the lay of the rolling hillsides that support them. The sun sets past this park in stunning yellows, oranges and purples into the Greek Islands offshore. To date, this peninsula is the most peaceful place I have been in all of Turkey. With all the natural wonder on display, it is easy to forget that Gelibolu, sadly, is also the small strip of land on which 1.5 million people from around the world gathered nearly 100 years ago with the ghastly conviction that against all else, they must murder one another. And this thought, despite whole-hearted efforts to understand it, would not leave me for our stay there.

Exploring Gelibolu, like much of Turkey, is a case study in paradox and juxtaposition. It is more beautiful and serene than Pearl Harbor, with a more violent past than Normandy. The scapegoat of the lost battle here, Winston Churchill, became one of the greatest leaders the Western World has known, while the winner, the Ottoman Empire, collapsed only a few years later. Here, you can walk through actual World War I trenches, where Ottomans and ANZACs – Australian and New Zealand Army Corps – happily exchanged tobacco and paper, only moments before they exchanged gunfire and grenades.

A memorial gravesite at Gelibolu.

A short historical segment. The battle of Gallipoli lasted approximately 8 months in 1915. It began shortly after the Ottoman Empire entered the first world war. The Allies, knowing the strategic importance of the waterway chain made up of the Dardanelles, the Sea of Marmara, the Bosphorus Straight, and the Black Sea, first attempted to conquer it by sea. After the Ottomans sank 7 Allied battleships, the fastest and strongest in the world at the time, in 25 minutes and less than a kilometer into the waterway, they were forced to rethink their strategy. A month later, on 25 April, they landed soldiers on the southwestern edge of the peninsula in an attempt to march north to Istanbul. On the day the Allies landed, they made it 50 meters up the beach. Eight months later, as the battle came to an end, they had made it only five kilometers inland. Like the majority of battles fought in WWI, this was trench warfare. Soldiers huddled together sometimes only 10 meters from their enemy. At the battle’s most violent point, each side had close to 750,000 troops, about 450,000 of whom lost their lives here. Winston Churchill, who was the First Lord of the Admiralty at the time, called his order to send his battleships through the straights his greatest blunder. While an unknown Colonel, Mustafa Kemal, parlayed his success defending the Ottoman Empire on land into the founding of the modern Turkish Republic.

The Lone Pine Memorial at Gelibolu, marking the furthest advance the Allies made during the 8-month battle.

But, as all this was explained to myself, Taylor and her parents in great detail, I couldn’t escape this nagging question: How do you convince one and a half million men to kill one another? Why exactly, does this beautiful scene have to be strewn with monuments, graves and bullet shells instead of campsites and hiking trails? Even a week after leaving Gelibolu. I cannot find a sufficient answer. None of the ever-present justification for war – religion, nationalism, mass hysteria, blind hatred – can sufficiently explain what went on at Gelibolu or at countless other battlefields throughout the world and throughout world history.

Every year, Australians and New Zealanders (who made up the bulk of the Allied fighting force), come together with Turks to commemorate this battle. They now admire and respect one another for their strength, grit and determination. They consider each other gentlemen. Gentlemen, because they exchanged food for water, tobacco for paper, because they never shot one another in the back and because the Ottomans let the Allies retreat peacefully. Yet, they were at Gelibolu to do the most un-gentlemanly thing of all: Kill other human beings.

Beyond the serenity, beyond the history, this is why you should visit Gelibolu: Because everyone should, from time to time, be humbly reminded that war and violence of this scale isn’t human and it isn`t noble, its downright animalistic.

From a memorial statue outside the Gelibolu Museum.

Vacation Breakdown

With the Kurban Bayram break over at our English School, it means it is time to return to work. Taylor and I got back in from our vacation with her parents, Sandy and Linda, late last night. The parents, unfortunately, had to leave this morning to get back to a real world of their own back in the USA.

Despite the sadness of separating from them yesterday, we had a great vacation.  We were guided by what I can only imagine is the greatest tour guide the universe has to offer, Tamer Teoman. Please keep in mind as I sing his praises that I am receiving no free trip or anything like that, only the pleasure of sharing a positive experience. Tamer is Turkish, but spent his high school years living in Pasedena, California and speaks nearly flawless English as well as some pretty good Spanish and German. He has an undergraduate degree in English Lit and a Masters and Ph.D. in achaeology. If you want to experience the wealth of history this country has to offer, he is your man. When he is not shuttling tourists around Turkey and Europe, he teaches classes as prestigious American universities, which in his modesty, he wishes I wouldn’t name. His website is here: www.teoworldculturetours.com

With Tamer, we went to Galipoli, site of the historic and rechidly violent WWI battle. We saw some famous ancient sites such as Troy and Ephesus. We saw some less famous but more impressive ancient sites: Pergamon, Aphrodesias and Sardis. We looked at a bit of biblical history, saw the supposed House of the Virgin Mary, the Church of St. John (where he is assumed to be buried) and saw or slowed the van down for 6 of the 7 Churches of St. Paul in the book of Revelation. Amidst all this, we even found time to throw out the itinerary and see some camel wrestling.

The thing isn`t that we couldn`t have seen all this without Tamer, its that we couldn`t have done it in that short of a time and wouldn`t have understood half of what we were really seeing.

I will be posting  many pieces on the sights and experiences we saw and had. Hopefully one every day or at worst every other day, starting with Galipoli tomorrow. Enjoy.

She-Males, Hashish and Our New Home.

Taylor and I have been busy for the last few days, but the upside of that is that our life here in Turkey seems to be coming together. We’ve observed a few classes and activities at English Time and received our schedule for the first few weeks. We’ve also found a place to live, signed a contract and moved in.

Yesterday, we were observing and participating in a speaking activity at our branch, where students come to converse and practice speaking English. As has happened with most of the Turkish students we’ve met so far, they were very interested in us, where we come from, our thoughts on Istanbul and had some words of advice for us.

After telling the students we had been staying in Taksim, a popular tourist area, one suggested that we needed to get out into “the real Istanbul.”

“From Taksim, you must go to Terlabasi (pronounced tar-la-bash-ee) to see the real Istanbul,” he said. “There you will see she-males, people smoke hashish, they sell you grass and you see lots of Kurds.”

I clarified, so the real Istanbul is she-males and hash? Classroom-wide laughter.

We moved on to another subject, but Taylor and I shared a laugh, as we had moved into Terlabasi that morning. We had heard these jokes about our neighborhood before we moved there, but the truth about it is much less exciting. Terlabasi and Taksim are separated by a large eight lane arterial. We live one block on the Terlabasi side of the road, about three blocks from the lojman we had been staying at.

Technically we do live in Terlabasi. But, to be fair, the only tranny I’ve seen so far was in Taksim, just outside a feminist cafe and bookstore. And no, I haven’t seen anyone smoking hash. Mostly all we’ve seen have been curious neighborhood kids. So, despite the ugly reputation of Terlabasi, I think we’ve found a hell of a spot. We live in the nicest building in our area, in the first floor apartment. Through the door you enter the living room and kitchen and down a flight of half-spiral stairs is our bedroom and bathroom. In the building are four apartments, ours, two others occupied by English Time teachers and our nice, but more importantly, English-speaking landlord Atilla.

Right now, our place, which I’ve dubbed The Harem, is as bare as old Ms. Hubbard’s cupboard. Other than our suitcases, we have a double mattress and a small wardrobe provided by Atilla and some beautiful Turkish pillows to serve as furniture in our living room from our co-workers and upstairs neighbors, Jonathan and Emma. Plus, our friends Bev and Chris who stay in lojman are a five minute walk away with an infinite amount of bars and cafes in between us.

I look forward to knowing we have safe and cozy first apartment together, while still getting a strong reaction from students when telling where we live.

I’ll throw up some pictures of the new place once we get settled.

Now that we’ve left America, let’s go to the mall!

This post is dedicated to my younger brother Jason, lover of both public transportation and malls, but mostly a lover of taking public transportation to the mall.

Cehavir Mall from the street.

Today, Taylor and I went to a teacher’s meeting at our English Time branch in Mecidiyekoy. Usually, I think we will be taking the subway to get there, but this morning we walked it. As we walked and approached our branch, we noticed something large and all to familiar outside the normal metro tunnel entrance in Mecidiyekoy — a mall.

Part of the reason I decided to travel was to escape the materialism all too common in America. Funny then, that within three days of being in Istanbul I found myself in the largest shopping center in Europe, and one of the largest in the world, just outside of my new office. It is the Istanbul Cehavir Mall.

I dedicated this post to my younger brother, Jason, because one of his favorite pastimes has always been going to the mall. He loves to ride the escalators and elevators, check out the Seattle Mariners Store and whenever possible, he finds it more fun to take the bus to get there. Jason, you would be in heaven. This mall has its own metro terminal exit. Meaning, you can walk off the train and into the mall in seconds without so much as touching the street or sidewalk.

It is also six stories tall with 343 stores and is an incredible 4.5 million square feet. For those in Washington, that is over 3 times the size of Bellevue Square (1.3 million ft.^2). For those in California, that is nearly twice the size of South Coast Plaza (2.5 million ft.^2). I don’t know how many elevators and escalators that adds up to, but again, Jason, you could ride ‘em all day. Like the Mall of America, this mall has a roller coaster. But this mall is so massive that it took us 45 minutes of wandering to find the roller coaster. It is also home to the world’s largest clock, located on the glass ceiling and facing directly down at the patrons with the wrong time. Today, at least.

Coming to Istanbul, Taylor had been telling me that the Turks were generally a fashionable people, who did in fact care about labels and designers, the stuff I have no clue about. I had no idea until I entered Cevahir how true that was. Every major label and brand you would find in the states could be picked up right there. Some patrons walked by in the latest European trendy style, others in full burkas. It was an incredible collection of people and stores and one that I did not expect to stumble upon in Istanbul.

Will I be hanging out at the mall now? Almost certainly not. But, it did give me a look at a different side of Turkish culture, or at least Istanbul culture. To those back in the states who have a picture of a backwards, Islamic Turkey, this scene would be an eye opener. After all, I believe that people have a lot more in common than they choose to see and that recognizing this is key to better cooperation between people and countries — even if it has to start with shopping.

One of many children's rides runs through the bottom floor of Cevahir Mall.

Even the world's largest clock is right twice a day.