Any walk or ride in Istanbul
invariably turns into a journey through history. Centuries-old civilizations
stand sentinel to the passage of time in this fabled Turkish city where East
(Asia) and West (Europe) literally meet. For 16 centuries Istanbul was the
imperial capital, first of the Byzantine (Roman) Empire and then of the Ottoman
(Uthman) sultans. Now it is a thriving city, perhaps the only city in the world
where it is possible to see humanity as a whole, in peace and joy, instead of the
walls dividing peoples and races everywhere else, instigated by the powerful
blinded by racism.
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| Blue Mosque |
My wife and I sat in the courtyard
of the Sultan Ahmet Blue Mosque at various times of the day and watched the
stream of tourists from around the world flow by, from dawn until midnight,
curious, unstoppable, alive. As the ethos of this cosmopolitan city, “Let them
come to Istanbul” can do for our times by way of inspiration what Kennedy’s famous
words did for the free world over half-a-century ago in Berlin.
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| Aya Sofya Museum |
In the courtyard are the
Hippodrome, site of Roman chariot races, and obelisks describing the history of
the place. Across the expansive courtyard is the Aya Sofya (Divine Wisdom)
museum and adjacent to it is the Topkapi Palace, a sprawling wonder that was
the residence of Ottoman sultans for nearly 400 years, now housing a sui
generis collection of robes, porcelains, jewelry, calligraphic manuscripts and
other Ottoman treasures.
History suffuses Istanbul
but what also struck us was the pervasive presence of cats, dogs, crows and
seagulls. The dogs lie on the marble floor of the courtyard, docile as doves.
Children pat them without fear. The cats roam the cobblestone alleys and hotel
lawns with aplomb and are provided food and water at regular intervals by the
locals. In the Golden Horn hotel where we were staying, we saw hotel staff
replenishing bowls with water and spreading cat food at designated spots with purpose.
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| Feeding seagulls and cats |
Just before noon prayers at
the Firuz Aga mosque near my hotel one day, I saw a cat walking about in the
main prayer room. In any other mosque in the world, a devotee would shoo the
cat away. Not in Istanbul. I watched with gratitude and admiration as a young
man ever so gently lift the cat up and place her at the exit door. I have never
seen people as friendly toward animals as Istanbul natives. They do not merely
tolerate them, they love them. In front of the biggest mosque in Istanbul, the
Suleymaniye Mosque, I saw a caretaker feeding fish to raucous seagulls and
cautious cats as part of his job.
If history is everywhere in
Istanbul, so is fabulous, fragrant food. Istanbul is as close to paradise as
can be imagined for foodies and non-foodies alike. Just the sheer variety of
kebabs left us in awe, particularly the Testi lamb kebab, cooked in the dancing
flames of a barely controlled fire before the wondrous eyes of patrons. It’s
al-fresco on both sides of narrow alleys, with a shallow divider between to feed
the cats who wander around like tourists out to have a good time. I tried
everything: lamb, beef and chicken kebabs. I found the shawarmas irresistible. Tasted
sea bass, prawn, and whatever else they haul in from the waters around, always served
fresh. We ate with pleasure and without guilt. “You can always fast,” an inner
voice told me, “when you return to California.” There’s a time to fast and a
time to feast. In Istanbul, there’s always some excuse to feast, unless you are
a Muslim traveling during Ramadan.
The Bosphorous cruise on a spacious boat is something to write home about. The Strait connects the Sea of Marmara to the Black Sea. Proceeding toward the Black sea, Europe lay on our left and Asia to our right. Light moved enchantingly across the face of the water and we felt in its ebb and flow the rise and fall of civilizations. The historical buildings made their presence known with authority amid modern utilitarian homes: Dolmabahche Palace, Beylerbei Palace, Anadolu Fortress and the Rumeli Fortress, built in 1452 by Sultan Mehmet II, the largest and strongest fortress of the Middle Age.
At some point, modernity
overwhelmed history in the form of … Selfies! When historians chronicle the 21st
century, one milestone they are bound to acknowledge is the moment when “I
Believe in Myself” morphed into “I Believe in My Selfie!” The selfie-takers
were easily the dominant homo sapiens in Istanbul. No place was too secular or
sacred. We saw as many selfies being snapped inside Aya Sofya, the Blue Mosque,
the Suleymaniye Mosque and the Ayub al-Ansari Mosque, as in the plaza and the courtyard,
in the Grand Bazaar and in the eateries. Ah, the bottomless vanities of
humankind!
Istanbul is not immune to
geopolitical reality. We saw Syrian refugees everywhere, mostly women, eyes
hollow with despair, arms outstretched for alms. We did our share to help but
there is no end in sight for these proud people whose country is in ruin, and
where return, at least for now, is unthinkable.
In Istanbul, there are no
pedestrian rights, only the rights of drivers. It took us a day to adjust to
this reality, particularly after I made some narrow escapes with my life and
limb intact. Thereafter, we became pros in jumping from the edge of the street
to the curb at the last moment to avoid being hit by taxis, cars and buses.
“Nimble” is the only word I can think of to describe our new-found athleticism.
We took in a performance of
the whirling dervishes one evening, a Sufi tradition that induces spiritual
ecstasy among practitioners through rejection of the material world and evocation
of the inner realm. The inspiration comes from the words and practices of Jalal
ad-Din Muhammad Rumi, a Persian poet and Sufi master from the 13th
century whose poems have sold in the millions in the U.S., making him the
best-selling poet in America. “What you seek,” wrote Rumi, “is seeking you.”
Departing Istanbul was
difficult for we had fallen in love with this magnificent city. The
friendliness of the Turkish people overwhelmed us. We were fumbling with our
tickets one day, trying to get into the subway that would take us through the
tunnel under the Bosphorous from Europe to Asia. A middle-aged man, responding
in Turkish to our English, took us through the whole process without making us
feel small or embarrassed. This gesture repeated many times every day during
the week we were in Istanbul. Even the smallest shop we visited treated us to
Turkish Tea and Turkish Delights. Everyone had a smile for us. It is true: Smiling
is indeed charity.
Jet lag made us lethargic
after we returned to California but as soon as we regained our bearings, we
began planning our next trip to the city that sits at the intersection of East
and West, mysterious and manifest: Istanbul.
