After leaving from the Sultanahmet district, we tried our luck wandering through town. While we skipped over the Hagia Sofia for the time being, due to lines, we did wander into the old Byzantine Cistern. This is a little “off”, well, under the beaten path, in my opinion – but was a really cool attraction none the less. It is amazing how this ancient watering hole, still supported by original columns, had not collapsed over the years of construction in Istanbul. It’s basically a grid-like square of, probably, 50 x 50 columns that maintain a reservoir of water. It’s not too deep nowadays, stocked with some large fish, but the water was nice and clear. It was ridiculously humid though! As one would imagine, I’d suspect.
After stopping for a bite to eat, we headed off towards the water. It was time to see the Strait itself, and make the trip to the “newer” parts of town. It was a brisk December day, the wind off the water kept the temperature from rising very high, but as long as we kept moving it was quite nice. As we were walking towards the Gelato Bridge, we made a “quick” pit stop at the Spice Market. This is the second of three major markets in the city; while slightly smaller than the Grand Market, it is still a bustling place to be and full of a vast variety of smells. As well, one could buy medical leeches. If one was so inclined. Melissa and I stopped to investigate, but against our better judgment opted to not partake in some bloodletting. I’ll try to see if I have pictures running around here somewhere. Mark and I were lucky enough to stumble across some much needed Turkish memorabilia – flag pins, flag patches, etc, so that mission was successfully completed!
After spending some time at the Spice Market, we started to make our way across the bridge towards the new section of town. The Crossing of the Bridge is an interesting experience. One that I’ve been mulling over on how best to describe in this post. This experience has been a bit overwhelming, it’s not something that I am accustomed to in general, nor is it something that one runs into in Kosovo. Let’s see how I do: (Melissa/Mark/Mom/Jeremy, can you comment to see what you think?)
So the Turkish vendors are very pushy and are super dedicated to trying to make a sale. However, it comes off like snake-oil salesmen. Reflecting on it, pushy is an understatement. They will call out at you, they will talk to you, they will follow you, they won’t take no for an answer, they will borderline harass you (or just persistent, you decide), and the worst of them are the carpet salesmen. Now, I don’t want to say that I think poorly of them; we all have a job to do, and they are products of their environment. However, for whatever reason, I was not in the mood for it. I didn’t embrace the hyper-pawnshop-esque experience. And because of this, I might have been cursed at, flipped off, yelled at, and the like more than my fair share. Now, I really think that only one time was warranted. I was a bit rude to the Rolex-seller, not a stall at the market but rather a wandering salesman. We clearly weren’t interested and he was bugging me, so I might have shooed him away. Probably not one of the nicer gestures one can show your fellow man, but as they say “çka me ban”. (Gheg Albanian) The other frequent cursing stemmed from my window shopping, that and probably my lack of engagement with the vendors. Now that was just the vendors. The one that really bothered me was the restaurant “herders”. I could not get into this experience, as Melissa and Jeremy did. The one that particularly sticks out to me happened as I turned a guy down and he stepped in front of me to block me. Now I had not been rude at this point, but that one got to me. I do not like being impeded in my ability to move around, especially in a city so infamous for pickpockets. Again, it was an experience. Next time I’ll make sure to mentally prepare myself for the banter that comes with such adventures. C’est la vie.
After crossing the bridge, we started making moves towards the public transportation system of Istanbul. It was extremely nice, actually. It was rather efficient, actually. It was pleasant, to say the least. We decided to take the trip up to Tashkim Square and the main, trendy boulevard of this district. (There might have been an incident where I inaccurately pronounced the word “funicular”, but the details surprisingly escape me) Arriving at Tashkim Square, we had the impeccable timing of getting to be a part of an anti-American (they view us as Imperialist, real original amIright?) youth group that was decided to host a protest in those parts. Luckily, we slipped past them and the riot police before things got too crazy. So here we are walking down the 5th Avenue of Istanbul, and it was a complete transformation from the Sultanhamet district where the apartment was. It was a normal street that you would find anywhere in the world, complete with stores (and prices) that matched the scenery. My favorite part was the 6-story megamall. It offered great views up and down the street; it was a giant disc with a hole in the middle so you could see from the top floor all the way down to the ground floor (vertigo!); it had a Krispy Kreme. Three things that all megamalls (I am using the European definition here) should have in the world.
As we continued down the road, after a KK break, we spied a Catholic Church that we thought would be a perfect place to attend Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. It was a beautiful Cathedral, from the outside only at this point, which was to provide an interesting Mass.
After a nice dinner at a “super Tradition Turkish” joint, I might be sarcastic about its authenticity but not about the taste of the food, we headed home for an early night. We watched a little bit of Iranian television, partook in some wine, Raki, and whisky, and turned in for some much needed rest. Melissa and I got up at 5 AM the next morning to go to our apartment’s roof top terrace and listen to the call to prayers. It was not as strong as I would’ve liked, but it was still beautiful to watch the sun rise over the city.
Christmas Eve, 2012, the day I went to Asia for the first time. So after battling all of the vendors selling trips through the strait, we settled on the public ferry to take us to Asia. While, some of you, might think this is a cop-out; I call it geography. I have officially now been to 3/7 continents, so I am, slowly but surely, making my way through this world. We had some delicious appetizers with the Bosporus Bridge as a phenomenal backdrop. After a short walk trough Asia, we headed back to the European side of things for a more solid dinner. Fried fish sandwiches, they don’t get too much better than fresh from the Strait. I think the only thing better than the freshness was getting back to the Southern-style fried culinary technique of deliciousness. We retired to the apartment to rest up for the evening mass.
Christmas Eve Midnight Mass in Turkey – not an everyday phrase one gets to use. So I decided to take advantage of it and lead with it. Our arrival at the Cathedral was met with masses of people working to fill the church for a peculiar once a year event. I will list things this way:
Our expectations: A super traditional Mass that would be something that I had seen plenty of times before, but would be separated by the simple fact I was in Turkey.
Our experience: A super contemporary Mass that featured an Africa youth choir, that was delightful yet contemporary. The Mass itself seemed like a spectacle, so many cameras/iPads/iPhones shooting pictures, with flash, of the altar. I, for one, was very disappointed in people’s actions in that regard, as well as the style of the proceedings themselves. Was it an experience? Sure. What it something that I’ll go back to see? No. I want to find the Armenia Catholic Church next time. That is my gameplan for my next Christmas Eve Mass in Turkey.
We had exchanged presents before we left for Mass, and I have to thank everyone, again, for all the lovely gifts. I was able to secure some Romanian liquor that is very similar to “Raki”, the same fire in your gut, arms, legs, head, throat, feet, hands, etc, that I’ve come to expect from Balkans liquor. I also received some much needed Alpaca socks from the Royer family, which were a God-send in my heatless apartment. I digress.
So the last day of our trip to Istanbul was an eventful one. Melissa, Jeremy, and I visited Hagia Sofia, finally, and it was worth every penny that we paid to get in. It’s this church/mosque that has been seen expansion since it was first built during the Byzantine Empire’s ownership of Constantinople. It’s reminds me of a sprawling city, each new layer has a different look and feel to it than the previous one. It’s a hodgepodge of history. The inside was as spectacular as the outside, the Islamic additions and art were exquisite. The classic castle/church foundations were a living trip through history; the changes in the nature of the times are reflected. It shifts from a practical church/castle/fort to a monument to an Empire that stretched for thousands of miles and lasted for about as long. After a lengthy tour of the church/castle/fort/mosque/museum, we (Melissa and Jeremy were staying on in Istanbul, but alas Mom, Mark, and I were out) headed to have our final lunch. We found this top floor, sunroom-style restaurant that served pretty traditional Turkish food with stunning views of the Hagia Sofia. It was perfectly balanced by the springtime-like weather that we were graced with that day. Even though it was spring time, we might have opted for some mulled wine. One does not simply say no to mulled wine on Christmas Day. Did I mention that my Christmas Day was spent in a historical monument that, dedicated in 360, has seen the passing of time? (It was the Patriarchal Seat of the Eastern Orthodox Church from 360-1460, barring sometime again as a Roman Catholic Cathedral, then a Mosque until 1931. It then became a museum some 4 years later.
As we boarded the plane to head back to Prishtina, I realized that I had seen a city that I had only dreamed of being able to see. I got to see it with my family, and was really only able to go there because of them. But this was only Part 1 of the Christmas/New Years adventure-time. (1868 words)
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