This is one of the winning entries of the “My Trip of a Lifetime” contest by Kongkona Sarma
We are at the Sirkeçi train station, the destination of the once famed Orient Express. We are not waiting for the train though. We have come to experience the spiritual journey of the followers of Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi, the exalted Sufi saint.
Istanbuls Blue Mosque - Source Oberazzi
The Melveli order of the Dervish sect has a unique ritual which takes the form of the sema, a “whirling” dance where the positioning of the body, outstretched arms with one hand facing the heavens and the other facing the earth, symbolizes man as a bridge between the two spheres. A performance is held every night at Platform 1 of the station.
Whirling Dervishes - Source Flickr, earthmagnified
The Whirling Dervishes, in their white robes reminiscent of shrouds, left me completely mesmerized .It was as if within the last one hour I was transported to another place, another time in the distant past. Not unlike the rest of Istanbul, where the grandeur of the Blue Mosque and Ayasofya, opulence of Dolmabahçe Palace, echo of intrigue behind the walls of Topkapi and soulful wail of the muezzins call from the many graceful minarets towering over the city, all have the power to transfer you to another era and another way of living.
Turkey is rightly called the Cradle of Civilization. Here one is equally likely to find remnants of early Greek and Roman civilization, and the Persian, Selcuk, Byzantine and Ottoman Empire. This is the place where you can truly say the West met the East. Maybe that’s why the traveler from the West leaves with a feeling of having seen an eastern exotic city while for me it was the closest I had got to Europe- cobbled streets lined with coffee shops, the bright Mediterranean sun and the blue waters.
If Turkey was the crown of the ancient Islamic world ,Istanbul is the original jewel in the crown The city has one foot in Europe and one in Asia- the only place where a ferry can transport you to another continent every fifteen minutes. It is split down the middle by the Bosphorus Strait and to the east of the waterway is the Asian side, a predominantly residential retreat while the historic peninsula of the Old city occupy the European side separated by the picturesque Golden Horn estuary.
The 2500 year old history of Istanbul is most evident in the Old City known as Old Stamboul or Sultanahmet and this is where I made my base. Over the next six days as I strolled through this historic peninsula, one ancient structure after the other laid out like a museum, I had to remind myself often that this was after all a thriving modern city.
The Old city is dominated by the Ayasofya and the Blue Mosque two massive edifices challenging each other from the opposite ends of the Sultanahmet Park.
Ayasofya was originally a church, (infact the largest Christian church until the 16th century), built by Emperor Justinian, and later on converted to a mosque by Mehmut II when he conquered the city. In accordance with the Islamic rule prohibiting representation of figures many of the frescoes and mosaics were defaced or destroyed.. Later restorations reveal some of the most striking mosaics of early Christianity.
The Blue Mosque or the Sultan Ahmet Camii was built not just as a desire by the Sultan to leave behind an imperial namesake but also to build a monument to rival the Ayasofya. The abundant use of the famed Iznik tile decorated with various hues of blues prompted the mosque to be named the Blue Mosque. The blue of the mosque changes to yellow, orange and red depending on the time of the day and the entrance you choose to use.
And around the corner lies the Topkapi Palace. Guidebooks had warned, quite rightly so, to keep aside one whole day just to marvel at the six hundred years of Ottoman history all behind the imperial gates. This was the administrative seat of the Ottoman Empire for almost 400 years. Among the display of the Sultans’ wealth, some gifted and some looted, was the Peacock Throne which was gifted to Mahmut I by Nadir Shah who picked it up in India during of his many raids. I had a good mind to pick it up and walk away it, my patriotic fervor only weighed down by the extreme security measure around.
However, amidst the splendor, what caught my interest was a room which housed the holy relics of the three major Abrahamic religions – Judaism, Christianity and Islam. It has the staff of Moses, personal belongings of the Prophet Mohammed, including relics of his hair tooth and footprints and the first ever copy of the Koran documented on deerskin. The room also has the Mohammed Chamber in which an imam has been reciting passages from the Koran continually for the past 500 years.
The Harem, which is Arabic for “forbidden”, was the most luxurious part of the palace and also the most private as this was where the Sultan stayed with his concubines, slaves and wives. The Harem had three quarters, the outer one for the Black eunuchs, the inner courtyard for the concubines and the sea facing area reserved for the Sultan and his family. Though lapped in luxury the Harem was more of a gilded cages as the women were rarely allowed out.
We took Istanbul’s efficient tram to visit the Dolmabahçe Palace, probably the only structure influenced not by Islamic designs and motifs but by the more contemporary western style, so much so that the palace, complete with crystal banisters and chandeliers would have been more at place in France than in Istanbul. Sultan Abdulmecid III, built this palace, consisting of 285 rooms, four grand salons and six hamams, to give an illusion of prosperity as Turkey was fast gaining the moniker of Sick Man of Europe. Reality was that the empire by that time had already lost much of its past glory.
Not satisfied with the history on the streets, we also visited the Istanbul Archaeology Museum which houses over one million objects, the most extraordinary of which are the sarcophagi dating back to the 4th century B.C.
But then it is not always about the history. Taking the Bosphorus cruise gave me a wide angle view of the city famously divided between two continents by the Bosphorus Strait. Along the shores were the Rumeli Fortress built, in vain, to keep out the invading Ottoman army.
In Turkey you cannot escape the blue eye (nazar boncugu) – represented in various forms like wall hangings, ceramics, key chains and bookmarks. I picked up quite a few at the Grand Bazaar, one of the largest covered markets in the world. The main attraction for the western tourist here is bargaining. For us Indians, it is shopping as usual. Infact the trick is to enter a shop when it is not crowded with other tourists and gently throw in that you are from India. The salesman will know he is in the company of a seasoned bargainer and will start the game at reasonable rates. When he turns away from you in disgust you know you have reached the absolute bottom price for the item. And all this will be conducted over Turkish black tea, which as a true blue Assamese, I could not refuse.
It is the same with the Spice Bazaar, a must do for all from the West of Istanbul. Most shops there display common Indian spices as some kind of exotic ware from the Orient .I stopped at the Spice Bazaar on the way to the Galata Bridge. We crossed the Bridge on foot in the evening when the city takes on a spectacularly romantic glow – when fishermen line the railings of the bridge and sea gulls hover over us.
In our hunt for the source of the authentic Lokum, the traditional sticky sweet, we land at Ali Muhiddin Hac? Bekir Confectioners, the original suppliers of the sweet to the Palace. The shop is in the fashionable district of Beyoglu, the centre of modern Istanbul’s night life.
By this time we have had our fill of kebaps and doners, dolmas (rice wrapped in grape leaves, my absolute favorite), pides (pizzas) and Koftes along with endless glasses of Ayran, the Turkish equivalent of our good old lassi and, Efes the omnipresent Turkish beer. The meal is not over till you have the Baklava, the Turkish dessert and Dondurma, the Turkish handmade ice-cream. For street food, there were hand carts all over selling roasted chestnuts and simits, a circular bread with sesame seeds, much preferred by the locals.
In Beyoglu we had the most authentic Turkish dinner experience in one of the many Meyhanes. This is where the residents of the city, far away from the tourists ridden parts gather to eat, drink and sing along with live bands playing Turkish songs, right next to your table and like a good Turk you are expected to join them. After a few glasses of Raki, the aniseed flavored national spirit, the party gets going and some even break plates, as a show of appreciation. Much to my distress, no one broke a plate that night. I would have, just to set the mood for the evening, were it not for the fact that I would be charged for every broken plate – a minute detail not mentioned in any of the guidebooks.
And of course no trip to Turkey can be complete without experiencing the hamam. We went to the almost 500 year old Cemberlitas Hamam and this is as authentic as it can get. But it is better not to expect a lavish spa like experience. The hamam rose more out of the Islamic requirement of cleanliness, than as a luxury. In olden times the Hamam was a social get together where instead of having coffee together, the townsfolk just happened to, well, take a bath together. Frankly I found the whole Hamam brouhaha a bit overrated as I could barely breathe inside the steaming hot room and my overtly delicate skin could well have done without the heavy handed scrubbing. But then each one to himself and many do come back for a second time.
As I stepped out, for one last stroll through the streets of Sultanahmet, the evening sun lent a dazzling brilliance to domes of Ayasofya and Blue Mosque. And the city of thousand minarets resonated with the voices of the evening prayer.
