TURKEY 2013

 
In WWI, Great Britain, France, Russia, Australia, New Zealand, India and Egypt…all participated in fighting the Germans.  Winston Churchill had the “great” idea to invade Turkey in order to split up German forces having to divert troops to rescue Turkey.  Churchill did not heed the Turks at all.  “Never underestimate your opponent,” Sun Tse, Art of War #35.  Result of one man’s indulgence was 200,000 dead on each side.  Churchill maintained he was right for doing so.  Fast forward.  My tour happened to arrive in Gallipoli, between Troy and Istanbul, on April 25, 2013, exactly on the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) Memorial Day.  The Turks had the grace to bury their enemy’s fallen fighters on a beautiful lawn with marked graves, and dedicated the place as “Anzac Cove,” where ANZAC first landed on April 25, 1915. 

The Blue Mosque wasn’t as blue as I expected, but the dome ceilings were spectacular; even more intriguing, however, was the hollow space from above the heads of men and women to the domes.  There lies ethereal power!  And how, circa 530 AD, the domes of Hagia Sofia, 10 stories high, could be built with such immense hollowness!  God’s work.  Afternoon after a walk through the crowded Spice Market, I came again to the court yard, found a bench under the shade of a tree to sit and enjoy a popsicle.  The Hagia Sofia was to my left and the Blue Mosque was to my right.  There were plenty of people—some Cantonese tourists were having fun posing for photos.  A mother and son sat by me; they were from Texas. And then it occurred to me how I happened to sit there—it was an old wish came true—to be in Istanbul, sit somewhere and just look at the Blue Mosque.  And then as usual it happened once again, I was given more.  The afternoon Muslim prayers began; there I sat listening to back and forth alternating calls, between the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sofia—simply an exquisite moment.

Like other Roman citizens, Saul despised the Jesus rebels.  It had been years after Jesus was gone, but followers continued to cause bad luck to the empire by not sacrificing to the gods, which also meant blatant disrespect to the emperors, who will become gods after their deaths.  Saul had the stone ready to throw, aiming at the rebel Stephen's skull, when a more evil plan came to his mind.  So how it was that such a man shall spread Christianity to the world?  God's Will! 

On his way to Syria to hunt down more rebels, Saul encountered Jesus.  At that point of no return, Saul (Jewish name) began to be called “Paul,” his Roman name, because he shall spread Christianity far beyond the Jews.  The other apostles were skeptical.  Paul was not one of the "original gang," so how could he have known how to be a Christian, and who gave him the go ahead to dish out rules and directions, such as doing away with circumcision?  On the other hand what's in it for Paul but inevitable imprisonment and execution!  Saul encountered Jesus.      

Similarly unthinkable was the continuous increase of converts.  Roman cities should not have been bad; in fact looking at old ruins of cities such as Perge, Aspendos, and Ephesus, there were beautiful temples, bath houses, shopping, fountains, theaters, and homes with mosaic floors.   Even poor people, if law abiding and hardworking, should manage a meager living—at least beat hiding to survive in underground caves.  What was preached to these early Christians that gave them such resilience and motivation?  Were they only hiding from Roman persecution, or did they fear Judgment Day coming sooner rather than later?  Along this line of miraculous developments, in 330 AD Roman Empire’s capital, Constantinople became a new root for Christianity.   

In every country, the locals know what tourists want.   Among 200 others in a softly lit den with a circular stage in the middle, I anticipated 45 minutes of Sufi spirituality in the presence of whirling Dervishes.  Actually, I was hoping to find out how they could spin for a long time without being disoriented.

First entered four musicians, they settled to the side.  We waited.  The flute emerged from silence, and then joined by strings and drum.  The tune was nicely tranquil and hypnotic; it called for doing away with all of our thoughts.  Five Dervishes (one looked like “Brutus”) entered, along with an elder.  It was like what I had seen on television—ghostly figures wearing dunce caps tilt in relaxation, their arms floating aloft, and their white skirts flaring as each rotates unto himself while encircling with the others around the core.  The brochure explained about symbolic reverences, as well as whirling’s physical correlation to God—from every single cell in our bodies to the galaxies in the universe and beyond. 

  

For $40, a tourist could satisfy her voyeurism of this devotional ritual, available nightly in Konya, Cappadocia, and Istanbul.  And now, I know why they could spin without being disoriented.  Do you already know, or would you like to know? 

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