Turkey Diary
Rebecca Elvin
Roger Short Memorial Travel Scholarship: Turkey Diary Rebecca Elvin August 2013 The white crescent moon and star waved a repeated greeting from the centre of the flag as minarets raced past the windows of the bus. And as the sun slowly set on this place – only hours new to me -‐ I wondered briefly what had coloured the flag crimson. Passion? Aggression? As it struck bold and unrepentant against the evening sky, I couldn’t help but think of blood. I wondered whether the same blood which tints the flag still pumps through arteries and veins, bringing life – from Prime Minister Erdogan to the masses thronging on the streets? Was it this blood that was spilled on the streets and over Taksim Square during the protest? Is it Kurdish blood too? Islamist? Secular? Can that striking red contain such multitudes? After a day trains, planes, automobiles, buses, taxis and trams, my journey came to an end when I crossed the Bosphorus by ferry to eventually arrive at my accommodation in Kadikoy, a district of Istanbul on the less touristic Anatolian (or Asian) side of the city, which has been a location of continuous settlement since prehistoric times. This area was originally Chalcedon, first settled by the Greeks in 685 BC. Byzantium was founded directly across the Bosphorus, following a prophecy that the capital would be established opposite the ‘city of the blind’, which came to refer to Chalcedon. The view was that those who established that city must have been blind not to see the strategic and defensive value of settling opposite on the Golden Horn peninsula. The whole area is now part of Istanbul. I spend some time wandering around the local market in Kadikoy – letting the bustle and colour and smell roll over me – taking in the clothes and vegetables and books and plastic ware I had, until that point, never realized I needed – and indulging in some dried fruit and a Turkish coffee on the terrace of a local cafe. In Istanbul, one of my first priorities was to connect with Ramazan Demir, a lawyer and human rights activist. Melanie Gingell, a London barrister, put us in contact. She has been involved in observing the KCK lawyers trial for which Ramazan, of Kurdish origin, has been acting as defence counsel. We meet for a delicious meal in bustling Galata Saray. By way of animated conversation and anecdote, Ramazan offered a great deal of insight into the current state of affairs and, in particular, the challenges faced by lawyers and journalists who take a view that opposes that of the AKP -‐ the Justice and Development Party led by Prime Minister Erdogan, which currently forms the government in Turkey.
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Turkey Diary
Rebecca Elvin
Since 2009 thousands of people have been detained and charged with being members of KCK (Koma Civakên Kurdistan or Group of Communities in Kurdistan), which is associated with the political branch of the Kurdish independence movement. Many of these people were politicians and the state considers them to be affiliated with terrorism. However, more recently human rights campaigners and lawyers have also been targeted. Trials are underway in Diyabakir and Istanbul. The trials have been heavily criticised as being unjust and in breach of fair trial standards and fundamental human rights. Lawyers who represented protesters involved in Taksim Square have also been arrested, on the basis that they sympathise with their clients. Journalists have faced similar persecution, if they are considered to present a ‘dissident’ view. Over the course of our meal, we discussed the human rights movement in Turkey and the work of other activists in Istanbul -‐ and in particular, the actions of the Saturday Mothers. They meet on Saturday mornings at Galatasaray Square, off Istiklal Avenue, holding pictures of loved ones who disappeared after being detained by security forces or who died in unresolved circumstances. The group was established in 1995, during a period of state repression that developed in the 1990s in response to Kurdish demands for independence. They were forced to end their demonstration in 1998 as a result of a crack down by the state, but began meeting again in 2009. Theirs is a peaceful call for justice, although the riot police meet them week after week. Military and police files remain closed, but the call for investigations and trials continues. The following day, I met with Professor Stephen Goodwin, a politics lecturer, in Kadikoy. Our lunch meeting evolved into a sprawling discussion, ranging from peace building, Ottoman history, comparative religions, minority rights, Turkish/Balkan relations, the Gulen movement and the schisms in Turkish society, particularly between Islamists and secularists. He was very frank, but concerned that his opinions might not be well received in certain quarters. After our meeting, I took a ferry to the European side. At dusk, with the lights reflecting on the water, the cityscape of minarets and mosques for which Istanbul has become famous seemed almost other-‐wordly. I spent some time wandering the streets in the historic part of the city, enjoying falafel and fresh juice on the way before making my way to the Çemberlitaş hammam to scrub away the travel grime. I set aside the weekend to enjoy the sights of Istanbul, meeting up with a friend and switching into tourist mode. Our starting point was the Blue mosque, officially the Sultan Ahmed Camii, which was built between 1609 and 1616. With one main dome, six minarets, and eight secondary domes, it is an impressive structure and continues to function as a mosque today. Donning the appropriate headwear, we entered to enjoy the beautiful blue tiles for which it is known.
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Turkey Diary
Rebecca Elvin
We moved on to the Basilica Cistern, an underground water filtration system built in the Byzantine period during the reign of the Emperor Justinian in the sixth century. We descend below the city to a cavernous space created by columns and vaults. Carp now swim in the cistern pools. Faces of Medusa carved on two large blocks were reused in the construction of the cistern and now support two large columns. The faces lie upside down and sideways. Traditional accounts explain that this was to negate the power of her stony gaze. We re-‐emerged into daylight and wandered through a few shops. I fought the urge to engage in negotiations for a beautiful old carpet. Despite the temptation, my budget for this trip could not stretch to include such a beautiful memento! In many ways, the Hagia Sofia is the jewel in Istanbul’s crown. Originally a Greek Orthodox basilica, constructed in 537 and named for “holy wisdom”, it served for a period as a Roman Catholic cathedral. For a long period it was world’s largest cathedral and a striking example of Byzantine architecture. It was converted into a mosque in 1453 when the Ottoman Turks conquered Constantinople. Christian mosaics were plastered over and Islamic features were added. It was secularised and has functioned as a museum since 1935. It is a truly beautiful space, even when partly covered in scaffolding. The recovered mosaics were particularly moving. Exploring the city was punctuated by mouth-‐watering meals and sweet treats, providing a further cultural experience in the midst of our sightseeing. The four courtyards of the Topkapi Palace offered beautiful gardens and spaces in which to wander and sit and reflect and rest. Queues of pilgrims snaked around the perimeter, eagerly waiting to set their eyes on the relics of Muhammed’s cloak and sword. The Palace was the main residence of the Ottoman Sultans between 1465 and 1856. It now forms part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site that covers part of historic Istanbul. The Courtyard of the Eunuchs and the Harem buildings were especially beautiful. The green and blue and white of the hand painted tiles provided an atmosphere of tranquillity. This place seemed like a world within a world – a sort of gilded cage for the concubines and consorts of the elite. Despite an atmosphere of gentility, I’m sure life was far from gentle for these women, many of whom were taken from distant lands. The palace is almost like a miniature city, with offices and living spaces, and kitchens and baths, along with the treasury, the library, and the mint. It operates as a museum now and the collections of porcelain, robes, weapons, shields, armour and manuscripts and jewellery set in their glass boxes under soft lighting speak to a different time and place. After walking through Gulhane Park, I met a friend at Galata Tower, across the Golden Horn, for dinner. The tall cylindrical stone tower stands over 66 metres high, and was built in 1348 by the Genoese.
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Turkey Diary
Rebecca Elvin
By this time, I realised I could spend weeks in this place and barely scratch the surface. Layer upon layer of history and culture, deposited over time, hardened into rock. The following day we explored the more modern area of Beyoğlu, beginning with brunch on the terrace of a café overlooking the city. We wandered down Ikstal Street, past shops and restaurants. Along the way, we discovered a small Armenian catholic church tucked off the main street, now home to a Lutheran congregation. We stopped into cafes and bookstores and found wifi to send a few emails. Suddenly we could have been on a high street in London. Later in the afternoon, I paid a visit to Istanbul Modern. This glass and steel gallery represents a different side of the city, promoting contemporary art and culture. It stands in contrast to the historic sites, boldly facing the future. I took the tram and funicular to Taksim Square. It seemed peaceful, where only weeks before photos on the news showed chaos, rioting and teargas. Clearly there had been some damage to the area, but the flowers next to the fountain in the park struck me. They seem untouched and untrammelled. Everything was quiet. On the opera building, a large portrait of Prime Minister Erdogan watched over the area, accompanied by a Turkish flag. That evening, I met with Victoria Short for dinner. She was a very gracious host, generous with her time and full of wonderful stories about living in Istanbul. We visited her gorgeous apartment and enjoyed drinks on the roof, listening to the cooing of pigeons and watching the sun come down over the city before heading out for a lovely meal. I was especially interested in Victoria’s comments around changes had been introduced by the government in recent times which seemed to reach right into peoples lives. I heard how women in the hammam were now required to wear bikini tops, which had not been the case in the past. And the lively Istanbul streets, with tables spilling outside in the evenings, had been restrained by limits on al fresco dining. In the morning, I took a ferry to the Prince Islands in the Sea of Marmara. I stopped at Büyükada, where no motorised vehicles are allowed and much of the transport is by horse and cart. Trotsky had lived in exile on this island for a number of years. After wandering along the water past the expensive fish restaurants and stopping for an ice cream in the sunshine, I decided to hire a bike for the day. I cycled around the island, past the picturesque wooden Ottoman era mansions covered in bright bougainvillea and made my way on foot up to the Ayia Yorgi church and monastery, established on one of the peaks of the island in the sixth century. The following day, I was up early to catch my bus to Gallipoli with some fellow antipodeans. A local historian provided insight into the disastrous Gallipoli campaign, which took place during WWI, between 25 April 1915 and 9 January 1916. Many New Zealanders served in Gallipoli and the date of the landing, 25 April, is known as ANZAC day. It remains a day of national remembrance and commemoration for military casualties. I had grown up hearing stories about
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Turkey Diary
Rebecca Elvin
Chunuk Bair, Lone Pine and the Nek. It was very moving to visit these sites, along with the memorial at ANZAC cove, and to see the rows and rows of headstones in the cemeteries overlooking the turquoise sea. The next day we crossed by ferry to Çanakkale and made our way south, visiting the sites of Troy and Pergamon on the way. Not much remains to be seen here and some imagination is required to bring the ancient stories to life. I arrived in Kusadasi, a rather touristic base from which to visit the splendid ancient city of Ephesus. I had wanted to visit since studying classics at school and it was a privilege to see the ruins first hand. I wandered the streets and agorae, absorbing the impressive façade of the Library of Celsus, the Odeon, the Temple of Artemis, the Temple of Domitian, the tomb of Pollio and sitting in the Theatre, which could seat around 24,000 people. Harbour Street stretched down to where there would have originally been water until the area was silted up. I was also interested in Ephesus as a centre of early Christianity, one of the seven churches of Asia, closely connected to St Paul and St John and the church that received Paul’s epistle to the Ephesians. Seeing ‘I X O Y E’ carved on the marble and flagstones, representing the recognition by the early church of ‘Jesus Christ, son of God and saviour’, animated the history of the early church that until that point I had really only been able to absorb through books. I continued south to Bodrum, where the white houses spilled down the hill toward the harbour. Here I was able to briefly connect with an academic and a lawyer for further conversation, before I set off around the peninsula for an afternoon of sunshine and relaxation on the beach. I didn’t want to leave! I had decided to head inland and ventured to Pamukkale, which translates as “cotton castle”. The UNESCO world heritage site is known for hot springs and travertine terraces. The area is covered in white rock, which steps down the hillside, forming pools and glowing pinkish in the light and against the bright blue water. In New Zealand, famed pink and white terraces were destroyed with the eruption of Mt Tarawera in 1886. I wonder if they might have looked similar. The city of ancient Hierapolis is built on the same site, and includes the ruins of ancient baths together with a large necropolis. The decorated theatre, dating from AD 62, was particularly lovely. From this region, I arranged to catch an overnight bus to Cappadocia in central Anatolia. I had settled into my seat and wrapped myself around my backpack, preparing to sleep for much of the long journey. A young woman and her small child sat in the seat behind me. She had long hair and an open and warm face. She smiled and offered me some food and we tried to communicate despite the language barrier. In the morning, when we disembarked, she had changed into the tesettür, a headscarf and light cover-‐all topcoat. I almost didn’t recognise her as being the same person, and was shocked at the distance I felt this change created and the impact it had on my own perceptions and sense of connection. It was a challenging moment.
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Turkey Diary
Rebecca Elvin
I arrived in Cappadocia, where I was based in Goreme. Here I saw the stunning ‘fairy chimney’ rock formations for the first time. I was able to visit Derinkuyu Underground City, which stretches eight stories underground and includes a winery, a baptismal, meeting rooms, a church, a well, a grave, and a kitchen. It is thought up to two thousand Christians lived here, hiding to avoid persecution. I went for a trek along the stunning green canyon next to the river in the Ihlara Valley, where I was able to view the Ağaçaltı cave church, dating to the fourth century with frescoes from the tenth century. The images decorating tiny church had been defaced, with eyes and faces scratched out, as a response to the Islamic prohibition on iconography. We visited the Selime monastery, established around the 8th century. The cave and carved rock complex included a school, a living area, and at least one church. We were able to appreciate the stunning outlook over Pigeon Valley, where pigeons nest in the formations, and visit Uçhısar castle, also carved from rock. The Göreme Open Air Museum was remarkable, representing the centre of a former monastic community. More than thirty churches and chapels have been carved from the rock, with many including beautiful frescoes dating from between the ninth and eleventh centuries. While in the region, I slept in a cave room. It was a unique, although slightly claustrophobic, experience. I enjoyed seeing the process of making ceramics, which the region is known for, and tasting the local wine. A special highlight was taking a hot air balloon ride at sunrise to appreciate to rock formations from above. Eastern Turkey called. I had wanted to venture into the Kurdish region and spend time in Mardin, Diyabakir and around Lake Van. However, while some sources suggested this would be perfectly safe, I had also been warned on a number of occasions (both before and after my arrival) against travelling further east as a lone female over this period. I followed this advice and erred on the side of caution, deciding I would have to return with company at another time instead. I spent my last days in Turkey back in Istanbul. I was able to talk with a Turkish journalist and academic, formerly with Turkish Television and the BBC and now writing a book dealing with contemporary politics in Turkey. I was also able to meet with a representative from the Balkan Institute for Faith and Culture, who has connections with Turkey. This organisation works to promote education and facilitate reconciliation and understanding between different ethnic and religious groups in the region. I connected with one of the people involved with the protests at Taksim. She was young, educated, intelligent and employed. She was able to offer a first hand
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Turkey Diary
Rebecca Elvin
account of current dissatisfaction and the perceived lack of options available to push back against actions of the current regime, which has contributed to the recent unrest. I visited the Chora church (the Church of the Holy Saviour in Chora), now operating as a museum (the Kariye Muzesi). This was originally part of a monastery complex beyond the walls of Constantinople. It is a small and stunning example of a Byzantine church. The original was built in the early 5th century, prior to the construction of the defensive land walls, within the perimeters of which it falls. It was rebuilt a number of times. It contains many excellent mosaics and frescos, which were plastered over when the church was later converted into a mosque, before becoming a museum in 1958. The mosaic of Christ in the land of the living is particularly striking. While in Fatih, I walked along the land walls, which form part of a defensive structure originally built by Constantine the Great to defend and protect the city of Constantinople from attacks from sea and from land. In the fifth century, the Emperor Theodosius II erected further double walls. The city stood protected until 1453, when Ottoman forces succeeded in capturing it. The walls are in poor condition, with many sections collapsing or covered in graffiti. But they nonetheless represent an impressive feat of engineering and construction. In my final days, I spent time out on the Bosphorus, sampled the wonders of lokum and helva and fresh fish and kebab and other delicacies, wandered the maze like Grand Bazaar and the vibrant Spice Bazaar, collected a few souvenirs and enjoyed the dynamic, diverse and at times chaotic quality of Istanbul life It was a privilege to have the opportunity to visit this remarkable country. I know I am richer for the experience and I cannot wait to return.
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