I Stepped Upon the Platform, the Man Gave Me the News....

"You are a very handsome man...and the lady is beautiful!"

"Hello Sir, where are you from?"
"Chicago!" I reply (Every one knows Chicago...Ohio is a bit more obscure, and entails too much conversation , so I pick the closest major city.)
"People from Chicago LOVE my carpets!"

The above were but a few of the comments from the sales force in the Grand Bazaar. This place is wonderfully nuts. High energy and endlessly fascinating and one of the most fantastic places I have seen (when it comes to commerce). I even got to experience it with brand new shoes.

It is time to think about going to Ephesus. The information guide at the Information desk at the train station says there is no train to Ephesus (Selcuk, actually) I fear it is my accent that threw her off. Later when I asked about a train to Thessaloniki she said that she did not have any information and that I should check with the train station. (I guess, that in itself IS a form of information....i.e. "go ask the train people.)"I did.

With the help of our hotel people and a travel agent, several cups of Turkish Tea and a credit card, we are set for Ephesus (see Izmir or Selcuk on the map of far Western Turkey). With that done we set off for the day to experience the grand Blue Mosque. It is a gem. Imposing. Sacred. Blue. Well, the interior tiles of the mosque are blue...and many colors. It's pretty hard to comprehend how complex the architecture is and how beautiful it is. Non-Muslims enter through another door without any difficulty. Go up the steps. Take off your shoes. Carry them in a bag or place them on the shelves. Walk around the vast, totally carpeted floor of the mosques and gaze and gape at its granduer. Makaila and I did so. We spoke with a fellow whose family sells carpets just outside the gates, where other expensive tourist items are sold (very expensive). Of course he invited us to view the carpets. In the meantime we gazed at the interior of the mosque. It's enough to hold your attention for hours. Beautiful carpeted floor. Marble. Tiles of many colors and designs. Domed ceilings. A blocked off area for the faithful. A place for women to pray. Very little furniture or the like...just a huge magnificent domed, tiled, carpeted stucture. It is even more impressive from outside and at night when it is lit up showing off its angles and domes and spires. The Taj Mahal comes to mind for such magnificence.

But it's time to leave, and alas....... someone stole my shoes. I suppose that somewhere in that is a metaphor for life. Perhaps there is a metaphor about leaving "baggage" behind and emptying oneself of the "things" of society and giving it all over to the Creator. I suppose that somehow it is the gods of the other world telling Bob to unemcumber himself and seek a higher plain. But the fact is, I am standing in the grand Blue Mosque without any shoes and it is raining in Istanbul.

Ah, but there is a god. The carpet salesman comes to the rescue. (Makaila's shoes are there, by the way.) He runs over to his carpet shop and returns with two used pair of shoes from the staff. One sort of fits. We walk out of the Blue Mosque in Istanbul in borrowed black shoes. "You look Turkish now!" exclaims the carpet salesman. And indeed, with the shoes I COULD pass for a local. Life has changed.(By the way...my silver hair stands out, even in a city of 14 million. I have noticed about 6 Turkish men with silver hair. Nothing as brilliant as mine...ah vanity. And when walking with a blond young woman, daughter Makaila...it would be hard to pass for a local, though I now have THE SHOES. I am practically Turkish!) I am honored. I still have all documents, Makaila and passports and credit cards, I'll live) The carpet salesman says to come to his shop for Turkish Tea. "Heck yes," I say. "Turkish Tea will solve many things." We go to the shop...a very beautiful shop with zillions of beautiful carpets. We sit. They serve us tea. I take Turkish Tea. Makaila takes apple tea. We converse with the boss-owner. They are Kurds from Eastern Turkey. We view carpets that are more than my mortgage, we do not buy but I am a semi-expert now on Turkish carpets.

OK, no sale for the silver haired guy and blond daughter. The original shop guy takes us to the nearby shopping area and I buy new shoes and we are on our way to the Grand Bazaar. Both words are apt. It is grand. It is a bazaar beyond all bazaars. This is both a tourist place but mainly a place for the people of Istanbul. Once again, Makaila and I stand out. Had I still been wearing my borrowed black shoes I could have no doubt, slipped through the bazaar incognito.

Sir, carpets!

Leather coats sir.

Madam, this jewelry is...

Where are you from.....

Sir just a minute....

If I could show you these....

Such a beautiful lady.....

You are so distinguished.....

It's all great fun. Listen. Look. Move on if you are not interested. It is truly useless to try and describe the Grand Bazaar. Put all of the shopping of Easton and Polaris under one roof and you have a hundredth of the Grand Bazaar. The sellers use all sorts of conversational tactics to lure you in. You are safe, but their sales techniques are honed to catch you for just a moment. What they don't realize is that....I have been to Chimundy Hill....and that has made all the difference in my life. You'll have to ask my other daughter Laura what that means. Suffice it to say....I was prepared (though obviously not enough at the Blue Mosque).

Makaila had checked out a place to eat in the Grand Bazaar. Truly a needle-in-a-haystack thing. We had a map, but it required Steven Hawking to figure out where you were. If you stop to get your bearings, at least 10 salesmen descend (once again, India was a great training ground). But we found a particular roasted-lamb wrap sandwich which Makaila had read about. People were seated at some small metal table type thing. They wisked a couple stools out for us. We ordered Coke and and Fanta (the universal language...it worked all over Africa 35 years ago too) There is a sort of "salad bar" on the top of the table. "Serve yourself!" the waiter shouts between orders of lamb-wrap. But he scoops up some peppered pickle chips and tosses them on my wax paper tray. I am hooked. We are seated in the midst of the Grand Bazaar, new shoes, peppered pickles and a roasted lamb wrap. Too bad for the lamb. Good for us.

Getting out of the Grand Bazaar is like one of those nightmares where you keep going round and round and never find the exit. I just carry a map and keep checking. I know lots of tourists want to NOT look like tourists and so sneak a peak at a map. I don't care. Everyone in Western Turkey knows I am a tourist, so I look at maps. Ask questions and are always given courtesy by the people of Istanbul and occasionally one finds the gate out (another metaphor for life). It is pouring rain and the streets around the grand bazaar are as fascinating as the Bazaar itself. We open our umbrellas and negotiate endless, winding streets searching for the Rustem Pasa Moque, a small but highly regarded gem near the Golata Bridge. We "know" the neighborhood and so we head for it. We have to stop along the way for Turkish Delight and Turkish Coffee at this great little shop. We find a quiet table on the second floor and savor the sweets and tea. I take a nap by leaning against the wall ("Seven") Back out into the labyrinth. We find the Rustem Pasa. We walk around it once to find the entrance and finally decide to ask and we're directed past the shops to a non-descript set of stairs. Up we go. We are in the entry patio (my term). It's cold and rainy out, we are wearing gloves and scarves and coats. A gentleman directs us to the place to put our shoes. I hesitate, but notice that he is a "guard" and I figure, Oh well. In we go. This is smaller that the Blue Mosque (every mosque is smaller than the Blue Mosque). In Christian church parlance, I would call it a chapel, but it is still magnificent. The floor is totally carpeted. The dome and tlles a sight to behold. My shoes still in the rack are also a sight to behold too. We exit back into the rain and the nearby Spice Bazaar which is another blog in and of itself. I will spare you.

Some years ago, I was at a sacred Hindu temple in the north of Sri Lanka. Like all pilgrims, we had to leave our shoes at the door. Somehow at that place, as the Hindu faithful were worshipping and as Laura and I were shown great respect by the temple leader as he invited us to participate a bit in the ritual....even as that was going on inside....someone stole my shoes there too. Perhaps God is toying with me. This journey is one for me to explore the sights of the great faiths, and that we are doing. If you read yesterday about our morning of worshipping among American Christians, you may have sensed that I was incensed about being attacked for my Christian beliefs. That episode was much more disturbing than today's loss of shoes. Yesterday I was told by those Christians, that what I believed was not valid and that my Presbyterian, Lutheran and Anglican friends were delusional and that Jesus did not love me. I don't worry too much about what they think, but I do worry about how those Christian leaders are teaching our young people and other Christians to hate in the name of Christ. Ironic isn't it?

Today all I lost was a pair of shoes. I've had that happen before. Those are replaceable. And besides....for an hour there, because of my borrowed shoes...." I looked like I was Turkish." And that can be a very good thing.

Peace,  Bob

Uphill Climb....... in More Ways Than One

We finished our dinner and I asked for the check and hand the waiter my Debit Card. He looks at it and exclaims, "That is my favorite futbol team!!"
"Fenner Bache!!" I shout.
"Yes, yes! The BEST futbol team in Turkey! Where did you get this debit card, it is great!" He asks.
I told him that I had connections in the banking AND futbol world.

Ah Sunday morning in a foreign city. Like most, it is a bit sleepy, the bakeries and coffee shops open early and I am wondering if the the other shops will be open later. But, I am a minister and someone said that there is an English language, ecumenical service in a certain place across the river where we were the other day. I told Makaila it would be a destination and interesting to see how the service went. Besides, I am a bit partial to spending Sundays in church anyway.

We crossed the bridge and headed up the steps in the picture above. (By the way, sorry about the lack of diversity in the photos....it's pretty much "Bob in front of a mosque." "Bob in front of a bridge." Bob in front of a building." I also have one of me accepting an award from the President of Turkey and one from Friday night when I scored the winning goal for Fenner Bache. And one where I am the stand-in double for George Clooney for a romantic nightclub scene with Jennifer Aniston in an action flick set in Istanbul. I promise to post them soon.)

We find the church and are greeted and settle in. The chapel is very nice, with its brick and mortar and stained glass windows. But, I also noticed that they had huge rockin' speakers on each side of the chancel and a pull down screen which when in operation would block out the cross and front stained glass window. The service began. Turns out it is totally run by American Christians for this morning. Looking around, I could have easily been in Ohio judging the people in attendance. I suppose this is a part of the expatriate community in Istanbul. We sang and prayed and wished someone happy birthday. All very nice. All led by Americans, but I am thinking, "OK, fine....hands-across-the-border...it's all good. The sermon began, an American man is preaching; it's on Revelation. The message was on "love." Love for Jesus, love for one another, love for God. It was all good. Lots of love. Then the American preacher starts attacking...let's see if I can remember the list.....he attacked, Anglicans, Presbyterians, and Lutherans and when he couldn't remember any more specific denominations he just attacked all mainline denominations in the States. The young American women in front of me are jotting down the God forsaken American Christian denominations with great care. But, the minister assured us that this was all done "in love" and the congregation nodded approval. Then Makaila started nudging me as he went on to chastize all the moral and mortal sins committed by these American Christians (assuring us that he had the love of Jesus in his heart for all of us. And remember, the preacher is American, not a Turkish person in attendance...a smattering of English) It then dawned on me that about half of the things I hold dear were just trashed by this American Christian preacher. He finished the sermon. Another American guy gave the prayer..."praying for true leadership for our national leaders." I thought, OK, that's good. Hands across the border type thing in praying for the leaders of Turkey. But, no, he went on to emphasize that he was praying for "our national leaders in the United States."

Hmmmm. Here I am in Istanbul, ready to understand the "interesection of faiths" in this corner of the world and I am attacked by American preachers. I could have spent my time better watching the Packers or Steelers on satellite back at the hotel or had a root canal. I hate to think how the Roman Catholics or Muslims would fare with this group of Americans. And I have to wonder what hope there is for different faiths to get along when relations are so raw between American Christians. (or at least this group of American Christians) 

We left the service after the final condemnation was offered and headed for coffee. An hour later we walked by a huge Roman Catholic cathedral and went in an enjoyed the peace and quiet and crowds and lit a candle (one Turkish lira) to see if there could be any hope for us all. Down the way we walked around a small Mosque where the faithful were gathering. We also went into the vestibule of an old Orthodox church to see if we were welcome. Everyone seemed to be fine with us except for the American Christians. 

Note to self: stay with the Catholics, Muslims and Orthodox folks for the remainder of the trip.

We wandered along a very busy main shopping street...about a mile or more....no cars, just a tram and occasional "official" car and small street sweeping trucks. It's a great place to window shop, people watch and just be among the throngs of Istanbul residents and a few tourists. For some reason we went off the beaten path and wandered in some very hilly neighborhoods and back streets. Places where tourists don't venture, but basic city neighborhoods. Very interesting to see and I have discovered that I still have calf muscles because they are aching.

By the way....Istanbul has a fabulous underground subway system. We have not ridden it, but went down and down and down the escalators to the entrance to the trains. Impressive. We could have used those escalators in the hilly neighborhoods an hour earlier. We did take a one mile underground tramway (my description) to get from one of the heights to the river area.

A final thought on Istanbul and religion. If you walk as we did, over in the historic "European" area one can find various Christian churches and a Jewish synagogue and Jewish museum. Like any great city, the cultures and civilizations have come together and co-existed as best as they can. From outward appearances, while the Christians don't seem to be too high profile, they survive in a society that has long since embraced another faith. (Although, after my experience this morning, I too may consider embracing another faith. Good thing all the preaching by the American preacher was done with the love of Jesus, otherwise I would have taken it personal.)

Looking forward to visiting the inside of the great Blue Mosque and Aya Sophia and several other mosques today. I have a good feeling about the upcoming discoveries.

P.S. You can view my winning goal for Fenner Bache on ESPN.

Peace,  Bob

Mosques on the Golden Horn/ Istanbul

Standing on north side of Galata Bridge facing southwest....panorama of mosques....our hotel is to the left of the first mosque

"There Would Never Come A Day..."

Greetings from Istanbul,

This is not your ordinary tourist attraction, then again it really is. I am at the Blue Mosque, one of the most famous in the world. I have traveled a bit in my life and I approached this particular site with a mix of awe and reverence. But on the way through the city from our hotel we passed many of the huge tourist buses winding through the streets. True, there are many tourist and sacred sites in this area (sometimes those terms are mutually exclusive). Around the corner we glimpsed the Mosque. Gardens preceeded it, lots of tourists too. Granted this is January, Winter and the numbers are probably quite small in comparison. But as we got closer the atmosphere turned sacred, carnival-like and your basic touristy.

People were selling cotton candy, some man dressed as St. Nicholas (not the American advertising Santa but....I guess the original St. Nick who according to history does hail from these parts though his body is buried in ....Greece? It's amazing how all these historical people lived or died or were carted off to other lands to be buried or else the locals CLAIM the famous people were buried around there....but I digress....those random thoughts have nothing to do with the Blue Mosque.)

I think I was expecting people to be hushed, as they were within the grounds of the Taj Mahal, but most spoke in normal tones. We did not enter into the main area. It was late and we had to keep moving, we will be back several times. We'll check our shoes at the entrance and take time to marvel at the inside. So, we wandered the grounds, going out the back area, winding through the parking lot and somehow stumbling on the main expensive tourist selling area. These were not men selling blankets from a cart, but expensively furnished shops which had been renovated from the .... perhaps stables? It was a bit out of our price range, I think the photo op with St. Nick may have been out of our price range.

We wandered through the streets of the area which were a mix of hotels, restaurants and shops. The streets were well lit and the crowds reasonable and it was truly awesome to see the mosque lit at night...sort of other-worldly. In a strange mix of east meets west we walked down the street to a restaurant and had pasta and a pilsner. (and.....listening to The Spinners sing "Could It Be I'm Falling In Love")  Didn't see that one coming as I had dreamed over the past year of seeing this magnificent structure.

We are now on our own, our friends Ken and Betty accompanied us to the hotel which is quite a ways from their home across the bay (actually Sea of Marmara). This Istanbul is really spread out...very difficult to describe other than continuing to call it "vast." They both knew the general and probably specific area where we were to be and so via cab, ferry and walking we arrived.

Our hotel has all the spaciousness of a nuclear sub though the bed is comfy and the breakfast dining room is quite big and the breakfast itself was very good. I continue to drink Turkish tea, though I found myself missing the usual "tulip-shaped" cup for the tea. Coffee is a bit rare and this morning I had instant...I will seek out the nearest Starbucks for an injection. Yes, there are Starbucks, many other coffee shops, McDonald's, Burger King and the local Turk Burger. I suppose the name "Turkey Burger" would be a bit too confusing. Pastery shops are ubiquitous. We also enjoyed an after lunch stop at the ice cream store. We are gazing at the various ice creams in the case, from the street front window of the ice cream store when suddenly the front window starts to raise up automatically and the clerk took our order. This place rocks! Their ice cream stores have auto-raising front windows! Nothing like that in America...and I thought we were #1. I may have to rethink some assumptions. I had chocolate chip and basic chocolate. Couldn't read the labels but just pointed and Ken translated when needed. But I did notice that they also had "Tutti Furutti." I don't know Turkish, but I have some college degrees and I'm guessing that refers to.....

I am now into the local Sports Scene as I tried to read the story of the local Fenner Bache football team...the one with the same colors as my debit card (which incidently is my new best friend.) But as I looked at the picture on the sports page of the paper, I took note that those are the same colors as...The University of Michigan. Don't tell Tressel that I am rooting for the maize and blue. Give me an "F"! Give me a "B"!

Peace,  Bob

Racing with Super Tankers

So, there I was standing next to my seat on the plane as we flew to Rome. A woman walked down the aisle and as she passed me she asked, "Are you staying in Rome?" I said, "No, I'm just passing through." She replied that she was going to Rome and had a tour lined up and was all excited about it. I told her that sounded good. "So where ARE you going?" she asked. "Istanbul." I answered. "Why?" she asked. "Because it sounds interesting," I answered. "Hmm, I don't get it," she said. I just smiled.

Besides the fact of awakening at 2 am and not going back to sleep, it was a pretty good day.

We spent a part of the morning walking around the Kadikoy area which is the eastern suburb or Istanbul. This place is so spread out that it makes Metro Columbus look compact, it also has ferry boats. The plan involved walking from the apartment to the ferry boat. That was about 20 minutes, then the ferry crossing to the "European" sector of the city called Karakoy. Karakoy was historically where the Europeans lived and conducted business, thus leaving the ancient, sacred sector of the city alone. On the way over via ferry our boat captain was apparently trying to outrun a supertanker plying the waters to our left. We had to pass them or wait, and our captain showed good judgement by waiting for the Super Tanker which was 100 times our size, to cross in front of us.

Off the ferry boat. Onto the wharf. Under the street for an underground/mall to avoid the traffic. The shopping mall is totally electronics sales, cell phones, TV's etc, save for one strange sight, lawn mowers and chain saws, sold by a hardware store. I haven't seen two square foot of grass in Istanbul. I have more grass growing in my parking spot at church than this entire city. Who would possibly want or need a lawn mower? And chain saws...Husquevarna's for you afficianados.

Our walk took us up and up into the higher reaches of the city. This is the old European area. Out destination was the Galata Tower; a fire-watch in ancient days. Just like a forest fire ranger, the old city would have men in this stone tower searching the city for fires and who would then alert the firemen. But, with the city being so crowded, we decided that all anyone could do if a fire was spotted was to point out the area from which the city began to burn. No way you could save a building or the town.

Today, the tower is a restaurant and look out. (See the photo of me and Ken having just returned from the tower and pronouncing the city safe from destruction.) We walked the outside balcony. 360 degrees and countless miles of Istanbul at our feet.

Nearby were many Counsulates and shops. We wandered down one street to the hotel where Agatha Cristie wrote Murder on the Orient Express (having passed a bit earlier,  the train station where the Asian porton of the Orient Express officially begins.) No one seemed to ask why we were wandering this exclusive hotel without being a resident. People assume you have a purpose there when you have gray hair, plus not knowing the language I was able to ignore the shouting at me. A return to the suburbs on the ferry with the countless communters made the city less exotic and more like any other world-class city.

I told our friends that we'd take them out to dinner. And their choice was a place near where we are staying. Speaking of world-class....this city is world-class when it comes to restaurants and dining and we were not disappointed by the wonderful evening out.

But, below the restaurant, in a little grotto was a shrine to St. Catherine. This is an Orthodox site with sacred water, various icons on the wall and candles to light (one Lira).

Like any ancient city, it is built layer upon layer on top of the previous generation. Cultures come and go as war and religious devotion (sometimes one and the same) ebb and flow. Today Istanbul is modern and deep roots within the Muslim faith while maintaining a secular/religious balance. Yesterday Istanbul under the name of Constantinople was Orthodox and before that Byzantine in the Roman era. From the Galata Tower today we viewed modern Istanbul and saw some huge stone towers which the city has built around in order to accomodate a school and a hospital. I'm sure some historians know the story behind and underneath those towers. I imagine few if any of the tourists on the tower, like ourselves, had any idea, but there is a story in the dust somewhere.

Likewise, I'm not certain of the story as to why the restaurant where we ate tonight had Orthodox icons and holy water in the cellar. It doesn't seem like the owners of the fish restaurant would have said, "I know what will bring in the customers....an Orthodox shrine beneath the dining room!" And yes, I know that the shrine predates the restaurant, so they built over the shrine. In between the appetizer and the main course (grilled sea bass) Makaila and I went down to the grotto. For a lira we purchased a sacred candle and lit it, asking for a safe journey over the coming months. Thank you Saint Catherine.

Peace,  Bob

We Begin

Not Constantinople

Travel is a form of escape as one author put it. I suppose it is escape from the familiar but it is also a running towards the unfamiliar. It's always fun to have a sense of the unfamiliar surrounding one when traveling.

In the Rome airport; I see the Turkish woman dressed so European-stylish and then the next moment realize she has put on a long wrap around dress and covered her head in anticipation of a return to Istanbul. From what I can see thus far, Istanbul is highly secular (which anticipates a very long discussion). Or it's fun to see an Italian gentleman on his cell phone, with hat and shades and scarf and a long coat draped over his shoulders like some Italian movie mogul as he wheels and deals over his cell while riding the airport bus out to the plane. Don't see alot like him in Ohio.

And by the way, who was telling me to not wear Nike and the usual jogging shoes that everyone and their brother wears in the States, cause to do so "will make you look like an American tourist." I got a nice pair of Merril shoes, but everyone in Istanbul is wearing Nike's and other jogging shoes. Or could it be that everyone I've seen in Istanbul is really an American tourist, if so, there are no locals. I think my Merrils are going to label me "tourist."

OK....so we made it no problem. You can all be spared the "I got to Istanbul but my luggage went to Rio" stories. Connection were easily made. Luggage arrived with us and magically turned up at the baggage claim. Our friend was there at Istanbul to collect us.

We were met by old friend Ken (who, with wife Betty) have lived in Turkey for 20+ years. The airport is extremely modern and spacious and there he was with the crowd outside the gate. A short taxi ride to the ferry boats and we board a ferry like one you'd see in NY or Seattle or SF and journey along the southern shore of the old part of Istanbul. I remarked that it rather looked like SF through the afternoon fog, haze. SF doesn't have the mosques that Istanbul sports but you sort of get the picture.

This is a massive city and the ferry boat trip to their home over in another sector of Istanbul gave me a sense of the meeting of East and West. If you want to get technical, I am now in Asia.

Later we walked along the seawall where you could see dozens of ocean going vessels waiting to take the Bosphorus up to the Black Sea. The Bosphorus is sort of the equivalent of 315 in Columbus during rush hour when 315 and I-270 meet in the northbelt. Only this involves huge ocean-going vessels and one-way ship traffic during certain portions of the day between the Sea of Marmara and the Black Sea.

Amidst jet lag we ventured into the market district of their suburb (here on the Asian side of the city). This part of town has an "every city" feel about it. Neighborhoods of apartments, no single family dwellings, the call of mosques at appointed hours, auto-clogged streets, many, many restaurants and coffee shops. (Yes, Starbucks is just up the block and somewhere is a Burger King since I've seen the billboards). We spent time along the harbor and then into the winding streets of the market district. Think .... "Short North" on steroids. They have so many restaurants and "no smoking" is the order of the day inside, so there are lots of outdoor seating for the smoking (and clearly, cold) patrons if they wanted it. We ate at one of our friends' favorite restaurants. Indeed it was excellent. Can't quite describe it but everything was wonderful as the waiters offered to shake my hand and give greetings to me and all my family and ancestors.

I needed some toiletries and so we ventured in a shop. They woman looked at my gray hair and announced that I had dry hair and should have some sort of hair conditioner. I told her that at my age I was lucky to have any hair at all. I don't think Ken translated as she proceeded to try and sell a few dozen other products to me. At the check out line I gave them my debit card which was easily run through the register. The clerk was delighted at the debit card which is blue and yellow from my local bank in Lancaster. "Those are my football teams colors!" the clerk marveled as he handed it back. And the large letters of FNB (Fairfield National Bank) on the card are almost the letters of that favorite team. (Fenner Bache) the team name!

I asked (via our translator) if that would net me a discount.

"Not at all sir!" was the reply.

Nevertheless, it's a small world when the debit card of one Ohio Bank can cause an Istanbul football enthusiast to offer me a hearty greeting in Turkish on the Asian side of Istanbul.

I told him, "Go team!"

"OK! OK!" he offered with a smile.

Bob