Thursday, 23 October 2014

Turkish Delight: Cuma Sermon/Football


New Mosque

Taksim Tunel
139 years of Taksim Tunel

Photo by Kaan, caption: "Depressed Turkey"

(I traveled to Turkey for vacation during first half of July,2014. Following is an account of my experiences in Ankara/Istanbul. This is the tenth installment of the series, involving my encounter with some Turkish teenagers working as volunteers and what I learnt from them. I hope you enjoy it)



Cuma, On Bir Temmuz
(Friday, 11th July)


I was back from Ankara. After a terrible scheduling issue and Istanbul’s heavy traffic, I had failed to make my flight to Cappadokia, and I had decided on the fly, to spend another day in my favorite city: Istanbul. I had a rough night on Thursday, half-awake and dizzy throughout. The breakfast was a low-key affair as usual. Having spent my previous week in a lavish hotel in Sultanahmet area, I had settled for a modest place this time in Asmali Mescit area. I started my day with a walk across Isteklal Cadessi towards the Tunel station, from where I boarded the Taksim Tunel to Karakoy.

From Karakoy, I took the tram to my favorite haunt, Sultanahmet. Upon arrival, I roamed around the half-empty hippodrome and ended up chatting with an Ask Me volunteer who was curious about Pakistan, particularly our (supposed) fascination with Tea.I taught her the recipe for milk tea(the variety that is common in Pakistan) and told her differences between Pakistani and Turkish cuisine. She couldn't understand why we used the bread (roti/ekmek) as a spoon to eat the curry/çorba/shorba. She also found it difficult to imagine lives of vegetarians and how they don't apparently have any variety in their food.She asked me if people in Pakistan consume tea more than water, as she had read it in some book. I replied in the negative but later discovered that it was the case in Central Asian Republics.



Afterwards, I met Kaan's friend Mustafa, who wants to write and teach history and Elif who wants to be a diplomat.I was delighted to talk to Elif as she is a wonderful person and her ambitions at such young age are impressive. We talked about some of my favorite topics from Turkish Politics: The main opposition party (CHP), Presidential candidate Mr. Ekmeleddin Ihsanoğlu, SOMA, usage of religion in politics and “Blasphemy of Ataturk”. We also discussed as to how the Turkish social structure is stacked against older people. Kaan showcased his photography skills with my camera, and I was impressed. It was almost ‘lunch’ time for the volunteers so I accompanied them to their office, where I encountered Mehmet, and did his “photo shoot”.   



While we were sitting outside Sultanahmet Camii (Mosque), the Juma/Cuma sermon started. Elif was kind enough to translate it for me. The Imam (Hatip) talked about marriage and finding a well-educated wife with a job and to beware of apparently "perfect" proposals, that there should age difference between bride and grooms, some spiel on dating and even mentioned 'tourists from pakistan' in some context that was not apparent.I was pleasantly surprised to hear such ‘progressive’ views from the pulpit, having been accustomed to hearing utter drivel during most Juma sermons in Pakistan.  

The pleasantness was short-lived as the Hatip switched to English in the final part of his speech. He railed against many aspects of modernism and how latest technologies are driving people to loneliness. He mentioned refugees from Syria and that they should be helped, ended with "May Allah Help muslims in gaza, east Turkestan, and Myanmar".

I moved near Hagia Sophia after the prayers where I met another Mustafa and my favorite volunteer: Özge. I discovered that Mustafa was also a football fanatic like myself and I learnt a lot from him. We discussed major Turkish football clubs, Turkish football league and its structure, famous players who played for Turkish teams, nicknames of supporters of Istanbul’s big three(Galatasaray=Lions, Fenerbahçe=birds, Beşiktaş=Eagles), Coldplay, English Premier League, Merlin, Turkish wimmens and much more. He was studying to become an interpreter and wanted to move to the UK after studies. Upon his insistence, I tried Simit (a Turkish snack) for the first time. It was a chocolate Simit and was probably a bit dry for my taste. We sat on the steps facing Hagia Sophia, between Million Stone and Basilica Cistern, till the time for departure of volunteers arrived. I spotted Mehmet again and took some more snaps for the “Behlul look-alike album”.

On my way back, I finally gave in to the temptation and indulged myself by getting a new cover of the iPhone (which as I later discovered, was too expensive). During my daily stroll around Isteklal, I decided to try "Kumpir" for dinner, which is basically a baked potato stuffed with different toppings. It was actually quite tasty. While walking back to my hotel, I witnessed that the impromptu musicians that throng Isteklal Street hide their instruments as the police approaches.

Saturday, 11 October 2014

Turkish Delight: Disappointment





(I traveled to Turkey for vacation during first half of July,2014. Following is an account of my experiences in Ankara/Istanbul. This is the ninth installment of the series, involving an aerial journey to Istanbul and a missed flight to Cappadokia. Later I hung out with a Kurdish fellow and had a jolly good time. I hope you enjoy it)



I woke up fairly early on my last day in Ankara and was ready to get down to the airport by 8 am. My Turkish friend Yigit had promised to pick me up on his way to the airport. My flight was supposed to leave at 9:30 am. Yigit picked me a bit later than we expected him. I bid my Pakistani friend goodbye and thanked him profusely for his hospitality.

During our long journey to the airport(which is quite far from downtown), we had a good chat.I told Yigit about the number of cousins I had and how my mother used to cook when we hosted an annual party, about population explosion in Pakistan and how the population of only Punjab province is larger than whole population of turkey. We also talked about conspiracy theory culture in Pakistan and turkey (his master’s thesis was on conspiracy theories while I have written about this topic for many years). We reached the Ankara Airport just in time for me to check-in at the last moment. Pegasus airlines has the cutest pre-flight instruction videos, involving kids only. I wish more airlines used a "human" touch like that. The flight went seamlessly and I was at Sabiha Gökçen Airport, Istanbul by 10:15 am. I later discovered that “Sabiha Gökçen” was the name of Ataturk’s adopted daughter who was a fighter pilot. The airport is located almost 55 Kilometers away from Ataturk Airport from where I had a flight booked for Cappadokia. I was supposed to be there within 2 hours till the check-in counter closed. I had two options: Either take the Havataş bus service which left from Sabiha Gökçen to Taksim every 30 minutes and took almost 1.5 hours, or I could take a Taxi which would’ve cost more but was supposed to be faster.When I exited the airport, the 10:30 Havataş shuttle was full so I could either wait for the 11:00 am bus (and pay 19 TL) or ride into one of the Taxis.
 
I chose the later option and took the first available Taxi out of Sabiha Gökçen. I was unfortunate because the driver didn’t understand English and my Türkçe was not good enough to get across my message. I asked him to drop me off at the nearest Tram stations (which, in any case was pretty far) but he took me to Kabataş. The roads were very crowded and it took us almost 80 minutes to reach Kabataş station. His meter showed 85 TL, but he charged me 96 TL due to some stupid reason. I was in too much hurry to argue with him at that point. I recharged my Istanbulkart and took the Tram to Yusufpaşa from where I took the Aksaray-Havalimani line. In hindsight, I should’ve changed the trams at Zeytinburnu but I was in full panic mode at that time. The tram reached Ataturk International Airport at 12:26 pm. I ran like crazy towards the Domestic Departures lounge which is on the second floor. By the time I arrived at the check-in counter, I was 10-15 minutes late and check-in counter had been closed. I talked to a Turkish Airlines representative who informed me that I had lost the flight and my only option is to get a new ticket from their office.

I found Turkish Airline’s office on the same floor and waited for almost 40 minutes before I got a chance to exchange my ticket at the counter. I was informed that I had to pay 200 TL if I wanted the ticket on next flight to Cappadokia. I had previously paid the same amount for a return ticket and this felt too expensive (considering that I was looking forward to an air-balloon ride which cost almost 350 TL). I pondered over my options for a moment and decided that it was too much of an investment, and asked for a refund. I got 93 Liras back and I walked away dejected. I had gotten hotel booking through my Iranian friend in Istanbul but this was an unexpected turn of events so I decided to call my friend and get the reservation for another night. With a heavy heart, I strolled back and took the tram. I was extremely tired after the panic-ride on taxi and tram followed by the airport hassle. On my way to Isteklal (where my new Otel was based), I decided to take a detour of Sultanahmet and catch up with my new friends, the Ask Me volunteers. I had missed them immensly during the Ankara visit. I grabbed a Tavuk Doner from a nearby shop and reached the Hippodrome arena. I met Doğukan, Ahmet and some other volunteers near the entrance of Old Bazaar. I recounted my tragic tale of missing the flight due to terrible traffic and how I decided to stay another day in my favorite city.
After spending an hour or so with the volunteers, I collected my luggage and took the tram to Karakoy and the Tunel from there. My next hotel was located in Asmalimescit Cadessi, at walking distance from Isteklal. I was welcomed in the hotel by the reception guy with an impromptu rendition of "Jeevay Jeevay Pakistan"(means Long live Pakistan, a famous anthem back home). I was allotted a room on the 4th floor and thankfully, there was Wi-Fi availability in the room. I rested for a while and then decided to take a detour of Isteklal Cadessi.  

On my way back from Taksim I square I found the stall of a socialist party (it had a long name which I don’t recall but their flag called for promotion of socialism, income equality and feminism). They didn't have anyone there with English language skills so a Kurdish guy became my interpreter. They showed me their newspaper (more of a newsletter actually) and despite the language barrier, were quick to dissociate themselves from "Turkish Communist Party". Later on, I accompanied the Kurdish guy across Isteklal and we ended up having a long conversation about Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) and Iraq.He told that he was studying cinema at Erbil University and was working in the youth and culture ministry of KRG. He was in Istanbul to work in a stage production. One was his brothers was in the Peshmerga force (KRG's national army) and he showed me a lot of pictures of Peshmagras and himself in a Peshmerga outfit (as he had portrayed them in a drama).
He mentioned the natural beauty of Erbil, KRG's capital and how victims of chemical weapons (used during the Saddam era) were still suffering from the after-effects. He emphasised his strict dietary habits (lots of water, some fish, oranges and lemon juice) because he wanted to stay fit as an actor. We talked a bit about situation of Turkish and Iranian cinema during which I name-dropped Antonioni, the only legendary producer I had heard of, from some film aficionado friends. 
He used the word "very" quite a lot and had difficulty in explaining some terms but my cursory knowledge of Arabic was enough to keep us away from a communication blockade. We shared contact information and had Turkish coffee at a chic coffee place in the Galata area.

I finished the wonderful evening by having an "Aaloo paratha" at an Indian restaurant run by Turkish owners. They were playing Bollywood songs in the background, probably to emphasize their "Indian connection". I had a lot of difficult sleeping that night (despite my tiredness) because of strong Turkish coffee. I chatted with a Pakistani friend who was visiting the United States in those days and a Greek friend who told me about “Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response”, a technique to help insomniacs. It probably helped and I finally slept around 3:30 am.   

Sunday, 28 September 2014

Turkish Delight: Konyaaa


Directions
Mevlana

A Miniature depicting Konya
Statue of a Whirling Dervish


After spending a boring day in Ankara, which consisted of lazing around in the apartment all day and visiting Golbasi park in the evening, I was ready to visit Konya. The only saving grace of the Boring day was my Turkish Friend Yiğit, who showed up after his work at the airport traffic control. Yiğit was a volunteer for the program that brought me to Ankara last year. He was one of the most interesting people from my trip. He has majored in Political Science and tried three times to land a job at the Turkish Foreign Ministry.The exam has multiple steps and one has to pass written exams as well as multiple interviews to be finally selected. Yiğit was terribly unlucky as he had once reached the final interview but was deemed unsuccessful by the interviewer. To quote Yiğit, They are not looking for just any diplomats, they are looking for Henry Kissingers.
Among the many gems shared by Yiğit that night, a few are worth mentioning.
On the topic of Turkish foreign policy and ambitions towards a local hegemony
“We [Turkey] cannot actually become a superpower, despite our apparent attempts to do so, we are just too lazy to be a superpower”.
On the topic of Turkish people trying other languages, “Turkish people don’t usually know how to appropriately express themselves in English, which is why they flail and swing their arms like a shadow boxer when speaking English”.



He had participated in Anti-AK party protests after Gezi and SOMA and he regaled us with stories of how Beşiktaş fans trolled the Riot police and how a Tennis Player in Ankara used to to hurl the Tear Gas canisters back at the police using his racquet. I asked him about CHP, the main opposition party in Turkey. He was of the view that CHP felt content with their role as opposition. They are rich, have a support and patronage network and are not too bothered with the nuisance of governing. In 2014, mayoral elections,a CHP candidate lost in Ankara due to massive rigging but the party didn’t capitalize on this issue and chose to remain inside their cocoon.

We discussed my plan to get back to Istanbul and then to take a plane to Cappadokia. He advised me to book a plane ticket, instead of taking the bus, as the price-difference wasn’t too huge and it would save me time as well. As he left, I looked up websites of different local airlines on the inter-web and chose Pegasus’s flight. The only issue was that my credit card was not valid for online transactions and I had to get that authorized by the bank in Pakistan. It was time for Suhoor in Pakistan, so I called my parents in Pakistan who got the card activated for online transactions and the deed was done. I was supposed to fly at 9.20 am to Istanbul, the caveat being that the flight was to land at Sabiha Gokcan airport while my Cappadokia flight was to leave from Ataturk Airport at 1:20 pm. I left the details to the future and took a good nights’ sleep.

My Pakistani friend and I left for Ankara-gar an hour before our train was scheduled to leave for Konya. I discovered that Ankara’s train station was established in 1937 and it connected Ankara with Antalya, Eskisehir, Konya and Sivas in the eastern part of Turkey. As we embarked upon the train, it was the first time outside of an airport that our luggage was scanned by a machine. In Pakistan, every major government/private building has scanners and people who pat you down for security purposes. The train journey was smooth and without incident. I discovered that speed on the screens was shown as Kilometers/s. I initially thought it was Kilometer/second, but my friend corrected me that the “s” denoted “Saat” (which means hour in Türkçe). I spent the two-hour journey reading Elif Shafak’s ‘Forty Rules of Love’ (Its Türkçe version is called ‘Aşk’) while my friend dozed off.    

From Konya-gar, we took the tram to reach Mevlana, the site of Mevlana Rumi’s shrine. I must confess that I am not a very spiritual person and I was not exactly moved by the experience at Mevlana. I went there as a curious tourist and was delighted to see history and historical items being preserved in the leafy Anatolian town of Konya.I was disappointed when my friend informed me that Whirling Dervishes only performed on Saturdays and we won’t be able to witness a live performance during our short visit. Following the visit to Mevlana, we walked to the nearby Bazaar and looked for a good place to eat some Etli Ekmek(Pizza-like dish which originated in Konya). Despite being a vegetarian, I indulged in the ritual to mark the occasion. The Ekmek felt bland as we were not given any sauces with it, and I improvised by using some lemon juice and spices as a spread for the Ekmek.

Our train was supposed to leave at 6 pm and we were done with Mevlana by 2 pm. There were four hours to kill, so we walked across town, found a green spot to rest and saw some old mosques. From the Bazaar, I got some Pişmanye, a sweet which is similar to “Pateesa” in Pakistan. We found a graveyard of Indian soldiers who were part of British Army in WWI but switched sides and fought alongside the Turks. I discovered that parking at Mevlana was free for the first one hour and one had to pay certain amount afterwards. Konya is a small city and we walked across the city center to reach Konya-gar by 4 pm. My friend dozed off again while I busied myself with reading some articles off the internet. On the return-leg of our journey, my friend, who is doing his Masters Degree in Soil Sciences, talked about difference in agricultural practices between Pakistan and Turkey. He comes from a land-owning family and has studied agriculture in Pakistan so it was an enriching experience listening to him.
We were really tired by the time we reached the apartment but it was a day well-spent.