Reader's Corner

On 03/06/00 A. Cheung wrote: This is such an informative site and the pictures are wonderful! Well done! I've been hooked by Turkey ever since I started working for a major airline as a flight attendant. During our layovers, I never had enough time to have a true turkish experience, until I found out about summer courses (taught in english) offered by a local turkish university. Last year, I took leave from work, registered myself, and spent 2 months in Istanbul learning Turkish and Ottoman Architecture. It was such an amazing experience. For those of you who are interested in something like this, you can visit the university's site at http://www.boun.edu.tr for more information.

On 01/05/00 Ms. Bush wrote: After a five day tour of Istanbul followed by 3 days around Kusadasi I was delighted to find your site which has enabled me to further my knowledge of your historic country. On tour one sometimes gets tired and not all the facts are absorbed I am now enjoying writing my holiday notes together with the help of your site.

On 29/03/00 Mrs. Caldwell wrote: We have a lovely Turkish student going to school here with us in Oklahoma. We are in the process of producing a beautiful display to honor her before she leaves our school to go on to high school. Thank you for providing us with some insight to Izmir, her hometown. We have enjoyed the pictures and all of the information you have provided.

I wanted to e-mail you and tell you that I liked the site very much. I was originally trying to find a picture of the monastery where Jallaludin Rumi is buried. But I was delighted to find some incredible images of a country that in my ignorance, I never thought of as beautiful.

Wow!, your site on Istanbul and its structures is amazing! After searching almost endlessly for information on the Blue Mosque, online and at my local library, your website was the only one to provide any detailed information about it. Because your great website, I now have the information I need to write my term paper comparing hagia sophia with the blue mosque. So basically, I would just like to say thank you for all your efforts in putting these pages together. The internet needs more reliable sources on historical places like yours.

Better and better, it´s fantastics, We really like your home-page and all its pictures. We will visit Turkey in June 1998 for the 5-th time.

On 9/3/1998, Kathy MacPherson wrote: Mark Twain said, "East is east, and West is west, and never the twain shall meet." They may never meet, but they do shake hands, in Turkey. That, in itself, is reason enough to go. I suggest you prepare yourself by reviewing a little history, so that what you see will not be wasted. When you see Ataturk glowering at you from every angle, it will help if you know about the critical role which he filled for Turkey. I found a book by an American woman, which I highly recommend. It's called "Turkish Reflections," by Mary Lee Settle. She lived in Turkey for three years, and speaks the language. Her special gift is for insights into the national character; the differences in perspective which make Turkey and America as separate as different planets. Reading this book before you go may be a bit of a shortcut to understanding what you see. It's not in every bookstore; I had to request it through our library's network of libraries, but it was well worth the extra effort. As for the travel details, maybe these notes about my own experience will help out a little. Most importantly, find a local guide! I am suggesting to the hosts of this website that they establish a service to make that possible. There are two reasons: 1) Save yourself the agony of wasted time, spent trying to simply get from A to B. More importantly: 2) My strongest memory of Turkey is the quality of the people, and you will never sense this unless you have direct, one-on-one communications. Here are my impressions: My flight and accomodations were arranged in advance by one of many companies which all do the same thing. When I arrived, and talked to fellow travellers on the bus to the hotel, I found that I had paid 120 German Marks more than most of them, for the same thing. So, shop around! I flew via Istanbul Airlines, from Frankfurt in Germany. We departed 2 hours late; the return trip was on schedule. They provide a magazine, which I read en route. There was interesting information about the Galata Bridge and a local drink called Boza. The quality of the magazine was my first clue that I was entering another world: The English was atrocious. I personally welcomed that; it's nice to see a piece of the world which has so obviously not been Westernized to death. Arriving in Istanbul provided a moment of panic. It was late, and we were all tired. We were met at the gates by a crowd of pushing and shoving locals, holding up many signs to help visitors find their guides. It wasn't very confidence-inspiring. I located mine, and felt a little better. The concept of names beginning with Mc or Mac is unknown in Turkey, and so I had become "Ms. Pherson" (not "MacPherson"). Whatever. We found the appropriate bus, and went off into the wilds of Istanbul traffic. The tour organizer wanted to stop at the better hotels first, which of course made the route less direct. It took two hours, for a trip which would have been 20 minutes without traffic. (That's why I said, do your best to find a local guide who can spare you some of that!) The hotel they'd assigned to me had a great location, but after getting to it via 2 hours of back roads, it SEEMED that I was being abandoned somewhere in Siberia, hence the panic. I went to bed thinking that Istanbul may have been a mistake. My hotel was a five minute walk from Sancta Sophia ; absolutely perfect. It's called Ishakpasa, but there are many in that neighborhood. Only in the morning, when the sun came up, did I see how wonderful the neighborhood was. The broken boards of old houses nearby were distinguished by structures dating back a thousand years; it's all a mixed bag. The streets were clean, and the hotel's little courtyard had all the atmosphere of the Acropolis itself. The only drawback was that I did not trust the cleanliness of the tiny shower, in the tiny bathroom. I know this is an exaggerated thing with Westerners, but really I did wish that I had brought plastic sandals to wear in the shower. The room itself was simple and small, but pleasant. There was a small refrigerator, and I wished I'd brought some bottled water. My Turkish hosts confirmed that the tap water is not the best; so bring water, or buy it at any shop nearby. In the morning, breakfast was available in the hotel's basement breakfast room. Good, fresh bread with white cheese, or jam; fresh vegetables (tomato, cucumber, olives); coffee; and red or orange sugar water. I watched newly arriving guests all make the same mistake as I; we assumed it was orange juice and took a healthy swig. It's some kind of syrup drink, not as good as Kool-Aid. Everything else was very good. In the restaurant, as in the rest of the hotel, the young men who whaited on us were at once dignified and warm. (I saw girls doing cleaning, and just one at the desk.) I then made my local phone calls to the two Turkish people whom I had contacted in advance through the Internet. As I watched other guests fumble painfully with directions to one attraction or another, I was again glad that I had called ahead. Both of my new friends, Sinan and Nilufer (Sinan is a man's name, Nilufer a woman's name) were ready to meet me. We had arranged that I would get together with Sinan on Friday, and Nilufer on Saturday. (I had only two days.) This is where it started to be fun! I found Sinan through Internet listings of a group of Turkish grad students at University of Conn. in Hartford. His sister, working on her MBA, responded to my e-mail and suggested that I contact Sinan. This was my first glimpse of the great warmth of the Turkish people. A stranger, with whom I'd just swapped a few words on the Internet, was immediately ready to pass me on to her family, who in turn set aside a whole day without hesitation, to squire me around Istanbul. I waited for Sinan in the hotel lobby. Next to me, an English couple were worried that they may have been forgotten, as their bus was very late. Sinan was over an hour late. I mention that only to remind you to take Istanbul traffic into account -- they can't help it! (I'm glad that I visited in off-season.) Sinan arrived, a neat and polite young man, like all of the hotel help. He is a university student at Istanbul U. This is a great pool of talent from which to pick an escort, as they speak some English, and have an interest and curiosity about meeting foreigners. Sinan is somewhat exceptional, being the lucky winner of one of a very few green cards which are available to Turks (as to the Irish, etc.) through a lottery. That means that he can come to the USA and work legally, and if he so chooses, he may stay. So he is quite interested in learning more about USA. It was a good exchange; we both wanted to learn from each other. I answered his questions about USA; he answered mine about Turkey. Together we visited Topkapi Palace , Sancta Sophia, and the huge underground cistern in the center of town. These are not RUINS, they are INTACT structures, and wholly awe inspiring. Topkapi Palace features room upon room of displays; very old clothing, jewelry and weapons. My biggest surprise was a few bones, cased in gold, and marked "Left arm and occipital bone of St. John the Baptist." One expects these things in Italy, but in Turkey?! Sinan reminded me that Constantinople ( = Byzantium = Istanbul) had been the direct inheritor of Christian rule, so this makes sense. The next thought of course, is that it's a fake: if you put together all the holy bones displayed throughout Europe, you would have several John-the-Baptists .... But I got into a conversation with a visiting scholar, who in turn had been interviewing Turkish scholars, and who was quite convinced that this is the real thing. Decide for yourself. There are enough Christian relics and holy places in Turkey to give Rome a real run for its money, if it were advertised. And that's without the tourist hordes of the Vatican! Lunchtime, and Sinan steered me to a street where we chose from among a few restaurants. Again, how much time would be wasted, and the wrong foods ordered, without a local guide. Our last stop for the day was the Grand Bazaar . My friends had all warned me, "Don't buy anything inside the Grand Bazaar -- it's overpriced for the tourists." Wouldn't you know it, I wound up buying souvenirs and gifts for friends at home .... in the Grand Bazaar. My reason was that with only two days, I would not have time to shop anywhere else. And, expensive by Turkish standards was still quite reasonable. I'd also been warned to haggle over prices; something which I hate. That is not so clear cut. Many shopkeepers are aware that we don't haggle, and had already marked their goods with a set price. On some items, there was a comparatively low price which you'd be ashamed to barter lower. And then there are items which, yes, should be haggled over. You're kind of on your own. (Again, nice to have a Turkish companion!) I looked at a marvel of wood-carving, a table base of intertwined camels, which cost $50. I simply didn't have $50. You guessed it; twenty minutes later I owned it ($35.) All I can say to you is, good luck. If I'd had more time in Turkey, I would have dearly loved to get outside Istanbul, possibly to Izmir , or to some other less touristed town. Also, I think I'd budget in advance, simply planning to buy a carpet, or clothes, or whatever -- because it's well worth it! We parted company at the hotel, and I had a few minutes to myself. That morning, before setting out with Sinan, I had received a phone call from Nilufer. Would I like to have dinner with several friends, that evening? Of course I would; what a wonderful idea. Nilufer, God bless her, was actually 20 minutes early. How I don't know -- the traffic was still heavy. I could not have asked for a better companion; she'd lived for some months in England and spoke enough English to communicate. Like some of the more modern Turks, she is very interested in the rest of the world, and in meeting foreigners and hearing about their countries. She had telephoned a few friends, cousins and a sister after speaking to me in the morning, and arranged that we'd all meet later for dinner. I'd seen some of the ancient sites with Sinan; this gave me a chance to see some of the young people, and more modern life of Istanbul. We took a taxi to a popular waterfront area. Again, long slow ride thanks to traffic -- but they say it's not always so bad; that was on a Friday night. It's about what you'd expect in any big city on a Friday night. I never would have found this restaurant on my own. We settled in, six or seven people in all, and waiters proceded to come by with trays full of small dishes of different appetizers. A few men chatting comfortably at the next table turned out to be the night's musicians. With a clarinet, a set of drums, and a round-bellied guitar they came table to table, singing. The music is a fascinating example of Turkey's East-meets-West character. Sometimes you hear the toneless, sliding ululations of Arab music; and sometimes the aggressive, harsh rythms of the West. What really interested me was the uniquely TURKISH music, which is, you guessed it, a combination. I found it very pleasant to the ear. With Sisan's help, I even picked a Turkish CD to take home with me. I am normally leery of foods when I can't tell what they are. That's not very adventurous of me, I know; but that's how it is. When I see an anonymous goo or paste, I always wonder what overspiced animal organs, or stinky cheeses have been hidden in it. Put your fears to rest, in Turkey! All of the dishes I tried were wonderful -- fresh vegetables, fresh mild cheese, perfect spicing and lots of garlic. I loved Turkish food. (The one real bombshell that night at least was not HIDDEN: A small plate of sheep's brains looked exactly like that, so you could easily avoid it if you so chose!) The strongest memory which I have from that meal is the memory of those wonderful people. I would have to meet a lot of Turks, before I could tell you if I was just lucky in meeting some of the best, but I suspect that this genuine warmth and quick humor is actually a national trait. Sengul, (f) sitting beside me, gently reminded the company "Speak English! Speak English!" whenever they got carried away and started to have too much fun in Turkish. Considering the effort which it must have been for many of them to sustain talk in this foreign language, they did a great job of it, and made me feel truly welcome and at home. Sengul had been five years at Boston College (I went to Boston University). It's a very small world. The next day, Nilufer and I had planned an itinerary in which we would see everything in one day. (That's a joke; two months would have been more like it.) We began with a boat trip on the Bosphorus , which is something you absolutely must not miss. Yes, you will be surrounded by swarms of fellow tourists, but the view is just too good to miss. The boat made its way North up the Bosphorus, finally pausing at a village on the Asian side, just short of the Black Sea. We had a few hours there, so we climbed about among the ruins of an old (1450) fort, took pictures with the Black Sea as background, and finally had lunch overlooking the town square. We watched the half-wild cats basking in the sun, and asking for treats from the visitors. I saved half of my fish for them. At home in America, I have driven similar tourist sight-seeing boats, as part of my job. I joked with Nilufer that we should head on up to the wheelhouse and meet the Captain. She surprised me by saying "Yes! Why not?!" and so up we went. We were welcomed; the Captain and I had a long conversation about international boats, waters, and maritime law, with Nilufer translating (he didn't speak a word of English). Like special guests, he treated us to delicate glass cups of tea. The wheelhouse was full of potted basil and geraniums; altogether, a perfect moment. This is what I mean when I say that you really must find a way to make direct, one-on-one local contact. You cannot possibly touch the quality of the people, unless you can find a way to exchange interests directly. I hope that the folks of the Explore Turkey Website will look into settting up such an exchange. Nilufer and I said goodbye to our captain, and then proceded to exhaust ourselves thoroughly, trying to see too much in too short a time. This is a game of You vs Traffic. Again, it WAS Saturday afternoon; I don't know what it may have been like on a weekday. We saw a second fort dated 1450, built at the same time as the other. More climbing; more photographs. Very impressive. We then made our way back into town, heading for an area called Taksim, where everyone shops for everything. This is where you want to do your shopping, rather than the Grand Bazaar, (though you really must SEE the Grand Bazaar). Taksim is where the locals buy things. Everything is subject to haggling -- even the displays in Benetton, which you'd think would be dictated by corporate pricing, not haggling. Not so. We didn't have time for much active shopping, though I did pause to look at sweets and spices in an attractive little shop. They gave us a free taste of fresh Turkish Delight, which was nothing like the stuff that comes in boxes. Another definate must! Nilufer suggested I try Sahlep, a distinctive Turkish hot drink. Emboldened by my success so far with Turkish edibles, I agreed. Sahlep is a little reminiscent of condensed milk, though it is made also from grains; it is thick, with ground cloves and nutmeg on top. Try it! She picked a couple of sweets for us to try from the menu, lovely stuff with lots of honey. We made our way back to the hotel, passing up the local buses in favor of a taxi. The fare was about a million, five-hundred thousand lira. Yes, it's one of those countries where money comes in millions and billions. When you get used to dropping five zeroes it's quite simple, and it's very funny. Not so easy to find the right bus, and anyway it's cheap enough by taxi. The other Turkish Traffic Delight is walking about on busy streets -- it's a constant game of "Chicken," as pedestrians and drivers fight for position, ignoring all possible laws, and ignoring the "Traffic Police," who gather by the roadside to chat. Your heart will stop, the first time that you see a pedestrian step out, inches in front of an enormous moving bus. Gradually you realize that dodging cars is a skill which must come in mother's milk; they're very good at it. I saw a few girls who could not have been over five years old, selling something among the moving cars on a street. They start early! When it was time to say goodbye at the hotel, I couldn't believe how much we'd packed into two days. I felt I had old friends in Turkey now, and looked forward to corresponding by mail, and hopefully visiting again. It's a beautiful, beautiful place, with lovely weather and a wealth of fascinating history to explore. It is a place where East comes close to meeting West, something you'll feel in the music, the people, and the history. It's a crossroads now, as it always has been. If you give it a chance, you'll come away from Turkey with your own very special memories, and very special friends. Good luck!

On 14/9/1997, Deborah S. Decker wrote: Always fascinated by ancient history, I knew that one day I would have to visit Asia Minor/Anatolia. When in the winter of 1992 I finally had the time and the money, I headed for Istanbul and the Aegean coast for five weeks of exploration. The countryside, the history, the people, the language, the food, the spirituality - all of it sunk its hooks into me and has never let go. I have been back to Turkey (Türkiye) every year since. Unlike the other trips which I have made to Türkiye, this past summer’s trip keeps coming back to me like a distinct series of snapshots. Maybe it’s because this time I rented an old rock house in the village of Assos /Behramkale, and I fell into the rhythms of everyday village life. Each day contained a unique experience which has now become a “photograph” in my mind. The one constant was the never varying, dry midday heat and the unwavering progression of the sun across the rocks, olive orchards, sheep and goat herds, wheatfields, and villages of the Troad region of northwestern Anatolia. So, what I can share with the reader are simply

The “crippled” beggar outside the Nuruosmaniye Cami Gate entrance to Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar. When I strolled by around 7:30 in the morning, this old woman was walking briskly about getting her piece of sidewalk all set-up for a day of begging. When I came back by around 9:00 to go into the Bazaar, she had positioned herself on her knees and attached fake “stumps” to show passersby that she was an amputee. Quite inventive I thought.

Sitting on a park bench near the remains of the Palace of Constantine, eating freshly baked börek (layers of flaky pastry filled with soft white cheese) which I had purchased on an early morning photo-taking ramble. The only other folk out and about were the street sweepers and the men delivering the freshly baked ekmek (bread) and the fresh sebze (vegetables) for the many lokantalar (small, family style restaurants) around Sultanahmet Square .

The unwavering roar of the cicadas in the zeytinlik (olive groves) near Edremit. The zeytinyag (olive oil) roadside stores with their “showers” for washing the dust off of your car and their çesmeler (spring water fountains) for filling your water bottles. Mile after mile of stone strewn hillsides covered in olive trees. Mile after undulating mile of small, dusty cars, trucks top heavy with bulging cargoes, and the ever faithful sleek buses hurtling along at breakneck speed, passing on blind curves and hilltops, and blinking their lights to indicate that THEY have the right-of-way.

The breathtaking views of the lapis and turquoise Ege Denizi (Aegean Sea) from the cliffs above Assos and again from Güzelyali south of Çanakkale looking out to the tip of Gelibolu. Knowing that I was seeing the same view which St. Paul observed nearly two thousand years ago when he was on his way to Lesbos Island. Weeping once again over the waste of young lives during the World War I battle at Gallipoli/Gelibolu, and feeling a re-newed admiration for Atatürk because of his words to the mothers of the dead ‘Johnnies’ and ‘Mehmets’...”in this soil, they are all our sons now...”.

The swallows, rock nuthatches, owls, red squirrels (sincap), hawks, grackles, tits, green finches, yellow wagtails, woodpeckers, and bats which scurried, swooped and soared around the rock cliff rising straight up out of the house’s baçhe (garden). The kuslar (birds) swarming around the baçhe’s white mulberry tree. The roses, pots of geraniums, carnations, herbs, trumpet vine,and ancient üzüm (grape) vine in the baçhe. Purple butterfly bush growing wild along the steep, rocky village lanes.

The constant dry wind which brought relief from the heat but also insistently carried dust into the house. The immense feeling of well being which the roadside çesme brought when its icy water was poured over your parched arms and legs and neck. The almost instantaneous drying of wet clothes when hung out to dry in the wind and sun.

The mellow light of sunset and the view of the Ege Denizi from the village çayhane (tea house) near the kale (top/fortress) of Beyramkale/ Assos . The old men drinking tea and chatting under the grape arbor there and at the çayhane in Babakale on the very western tip of the Troad. The toot of the dolmus (shared taxi) horn as it approached the crest of the hill. The smile that spread across the balikçi’s (“Young Ali”) face as he hopped aboard the rear bumper of the dolmus and held on as it roared off toward the docks (iskele).

The Cuma Pazar (Friday market) at Ayvacik with its many divers stalls of fresh fruit, vegetables, and hand-crafted household goods. Four different kinds of kiraz (cherries -the best are black ones from Uludag ), various varieties of seftali (peaches), erik (plums), armut (pears), fasulye (beans), beber (peppers), domates (tomatoes), sogan (onions), kavun (melon), patates (potatoes), and kayisi (apricots). Six different kinds of beyaz peynir (white cheese), freshly churned tereyagi (butter), and thick, fresh (taze) yogurt (yogurt). Hand carved wooden spoons, flour sifters, and multi-toned copper bells for the goats and sheep to wear. Plus! the challenge of chasing down and bargaining with a gap-toothed Yoruk mountain woman for her carpet that I spotted sticking up out of her rucksack. She had spun the wool and then woven her vegetable dyed woolen carpet in 3’ x 3’ squares on a small, transportable loom, finally connecting the three finished pieces together by woolen cords.

The ancient, wandering village woman dressed in black who came by the house on the last morning. I gave her all the remaining meyve (fruit), sebze, and some pirinç (rice) and seker (sugar) from the house. This would, hopefully (insallah) bring a good journey (iyi yolculuklar) and God’s blessings to me on my trip back to Izmir and then on to Istanbul and America.

Deborah Stevens Decker is the grant researcher/writer for Young Harris College in the mountains of northern Georgia, USA. An avid student of all things Turkish, she has devoted most of her time on previous trips to Türkiye to birdwatching through her contacts at Middle Eastern Technical University (Ankara), the Middle Eastern Ornithological Society, and DHKD (Turkish Society for the Protection of Nature). She can be contacted at Young Harris College P.O.Box 275 Young Harris, GA 30582 ddecker@yhc.edu