Afterword: Turkey

Turkey, and especially Istanbul, is full of contradictions.  Any thoughtful guidebook or magazine article will tell you so, particularly the unique way in which the country finds itself, both geographically and culturally, with one foot in the West and one foot in the East.  Nonetheless, it's still fascinating to experience an observation like this for one's self.  

Below are some photos I took that really captured something poignant for me, mostly because they seemed to illuminate real people.  Individuals with a meaningful story.

Nowhere is the contrast between East and West more apparent than as seen in the differences between the older generation and the younger. 

The gentleman below owned a fish cart in a small  fishing village on the Bosphorus near the Black Sea.  This village relied completely on fishing and a once-a-day boat full of tourists (like us) from Istanbul.  The village is a village, which is to say that it consisted of only 2-3 shops and restaurants.  However, there were at least eight full-service restaurants and a handful of these carts--all of them specializing in fresh fish.  I can't imagine how this man makes a living competing with so many others doing the same thing, but it is the only income-generating activity available to him.

This gentleman comes to the Galata Bridge in Istanbul every day to fish.  He feeds his family this way and sells any leftovers.

 I found the draped profile of this young woman so beautiful.  

I took the photo below at the exact adjacency of the Old Greek neighborhood with the Muslim neighborhood. 

The Greeks have a long history in Turkey, dating back to second century B.C., with the Greek city of Byzantium becoming Constantinople/Istanbul.  Under the Ottoman Empire and even in modern times, the Greeks suffered much persecution in Turkey and were forced to flee.  Only about 2,000 Greeks remain in Turkey.  The Turks and Greeks have a long history of hating each other, and animosities continue, mainly over the question of Cypress.

One will not find a Greek salad in Turkey.  Here, it is called a "Mediterranean salad."  Similarly, companies like Starbucks can't offer drinks made with "Greek yogurt," such a selling point around the globe nowadays, because it would insult locals.

The wooden structure on the left in this photo is an example traditional Ottoman timber construction.  There are very, very few of these buildings left.  They started using wood because it actually held up better in an earthquake than other materials.

Like NO other country we have visited, the national flag is ubiquitous.  It is flown from every rooftop and from every boat sailing down the Bosphorus.

Carpet weaving is a significant cultural tradition in Turkey, and is a completely female industry.  It is not culturally accepted for men to weave carpets, although only men sell and repair carpets.  Many of the rural women carpet weavers do their craft in complete anonymity, although some efforts have been made in recent past to acknowledge their work.  From my reading, it seems there are conflicting understandings as to whether these women are oppressed and suffer from inequalities in the trade of carpets, or if a hierarchy exists in different regions giving them some autonomy and control. 

There's much to greet the senses in Turkey, from the smells of the open markets and grilled meats to the feel of a mosque carpet beneath one's bare feet.  In particular, there's no escaping the sound of the call to prayer, which can be heard five times a day.

It's deafening in Istanbul where there are over 3,000 mosques, each using speakers to blast the Muezzin's recitation from the top of the minarets.  It was impossible to have a conversation while at lunch until the call was finished.  As we made our way to the coast, the call to prayer took on a serene, somber and mysterious quality as the mosques are more spread out and the sound reaches out and becomes lost at sea.

We sat down to dinner in Kas and the owner's daughter joined us to eat and play UNO.  She's five years old and lives above the restaurant.  She keeps restaurant hours and every day wanders alone down to the town square to dance in front of the music performers.  Her mom, dressed in typical headscarves and skirt, sat at an adjacent table but did not acknowledge us.  The father/owner and his brother joked and talked with us throughout our meal and did magic tricks for this kids.  We learned to play UNO in Turkish and English.

And just a few last thoughts.  Dogs and cats are everywhere.  Culturally, dogs and cats are extremely valued and well-taken care of, although differently than in the West.  They are considered outdoor animals, and it doesn't seem like anyone actually outright "owns" an animal.  Instead, dogs and cats roam freely, and the community bands together to take care of them.  It's as if the animals adopt a restaurant or a hotel or a shop that they know will give them some food time to time.  Meanwhile, the government vaccinates and tags them, but rather than hold them in a kennel or shelter, they release them back on the streets with the assumption they'll find a way to survive.

Survival, sadly, seems to be the job of too many children in Istanbul.  I haven't been anywhere where I've witnessed so many homeless and poverty-stricken (and sometimes disabled) children on the streets.  Most are sent out at night to sell token items (like cleansing wipes) to make money for the family.  Some are beaten if they return with nothing.  A few rainy, chilly nights, it was all I could do not to cry to see these kids hovering under some overhand to stay dry.  The Turkish lira has dropped in value dramatically in recent years and everyone is struggling.  It's a far cry from the Ottoman Empire, which for all its violence and flaws, was known for its social welfare system (500 years before anyone was thinking of this kind of approach to the needs of citizens).

Lastly, I was moved by the story of one of our servers in Kas.  His family lives in a town just over the Syrian border, but he lives in Kas seven months of the year to make money for his family at a popular summer vacation spot.  He spoke candidly about how worried he was for his family, which includes kids A and R's age, because of the spill-over violence in Syria.  He worries for their safety and their livelihood.  Turkey is large country; it is a 24-hour bus ride from Kas to this man's hometown.  This a huge journey and why he can't return home more frequently.  On the other hand, the Syrian tragedy is more or less in his backyard, and I felt deeply for him--for the near and far of the situation.  I felt sad at how easy it is to feel removed from things happening across the world and in one's own backyard.