Be Greek for a Week!

I certainly wouldn't push the issue with them, but Greeks and Turks have more in common than they might like to admit. First of all, the food. Giant slabs of meat roasting on a stick - call it kebab or call it souvlaki, it's the same thing. Then there is spanakopita, or borek in Turkish, olives, white beans in tomato sauce (fasuliye or fasolada) and the sweets: baklava, helva, kadayif, not to mention all the yogurt....

They have many words in common, too, despite the complete difference in language. They both drive with a devil-may-care attitude, and use the already narrow sidewalks as parking lanes. Both countries are fiercely proud of their history, language and culture - if you listen to a Greek, they invented everything, if you listen to a Turk, their country is the very birthplace of civilization. And if you have problems with the evil eye, they will sell you the same charms in Athens as in Istanbul.

But how can one compare the experience of a traveler meeting strangers to being taken in by an entire family! The Dekaneas clan, cousins to Nick (my lovely brother-in-law) and his father Tony, have welcomed me in traditional Greek style, giving me a room and stuffing me full of excellent food and homemade wine. In a way that is common in Greece, and totally abnormal in the US, they all live together in one building. Stella, the matriarch of the family, does most of the cooking and babysitting, but specializes in distributing love and kindness. Her brother-in-law is upstairs, and her two daughters, one with her own family, the other with her fiancee, complete the household. More cousins and friends drop in for big Sunday meals. In the week I have been here, not one fight has broken out. It's a beautiful thing to see, but perhaps we should leave this social experiment to the Greeks and keep to our American ideas of personal space.


Athens is a large, bustling city with ancient ruins mixed right in with modern apartment buildings.


It's also more colorful and diverse than I had imagined, with immigrants from Africa and the Middle East adding spice to the mixture.


I took a side trip to Meteora, a fantastic landscape with 700-year old monasteries perched on top of high rock pinnacles. Somewhat reminiscent of Cappadocia, but with higher-quality architecture, and less of a desolate feel.




Aphrodite and little Stella

What a wonderful way to end my trip, comfortably nestled within a family that treats me like one of it's own. The perfect prelude to returning to my own loved ones - I look forward to seeing many of you very soon!

Much love,

Deborah

Fattening the sacred carp

Pilgrims come from all over to visit Sanliurfa, which according to some, is the birthplace of Abraham. It is also purported to be site of his famous near-assassination by Nero, and pools of fish mark the spot where he landed after escaping Nero's furnace. Everyone who visits here makes a point of feeding the sacred fish, and legend has it that anyone who catches one will die or go blind, depending on who you ask.


These are the fattest, most overfed fish in Turkey, maybe anywhere, and yet, when food is dropped into the water, they fight frantically over every morsel as if they were on the brink of starvation.


Yes, that is a man in a lavender headscarf. Many men wear them -- possibly my favorite thing about this area.

I also took a side trip to Harran, another claimant to Abraham's life story (he is considered a major prophet in Islam). It has a dry and dusty middle-of-nowhere feel to it, near the Syrian border with more Arabic spoken than Turkish.


I was fed couscous - a welcome change - by this lovely family.


One of Harran's famous beehive-shaped houses. They are supposed to be ideal for the desert climate, staying very cool in summer, but few people still live in them. This one is now a hotel and gift shop, for example. Harran also claims to be the location of the world's oldest university, and the place where zero was discovered, among other things. This last fact is probably only of interest to math nerds, though.

The southeast of Turkey is markedly different than the western half of the country, and merits further exploration, possibly with a wide detour around the Iraqi border area. It has a distinctly Arab influence, and some very ancient ruins, outliers of the Fertile Crescent. Few tourists make it out here, and I'm pretty sure I was the only foreigner in town. The markets here were the best I've seen, with metal workers and woodworkers turning out products on site. Being the only native English speaker in town, I had to move pretty quickly to avoid countless interactions with people wanting to practice their language skills. Sometimes it's nice to have other tourists around to spread the wealth.

History disappears under the waves of progress

Of all the conflicting observations that can be made about Turkey, there is no argument that the country is bent on progress. Mainstream urban Turks see themselves as modern, developed, and European. Outside of the major cities, the countryside is the polar opposite of this image of "modern" Turkey. Goats walk the streets as numerous as cars, women's heads are covered, people ride to market on donkeys with saddles and motorcycles dressed as camels.


I saw a woman take off with this guy faster than you would believe possible.

There are, of course, some casualties of the rapid pace of development. Here in the southeast, one of those casualties was the ancient city of Zeugma. Partly in order to appease Kurdish separatists, a massive damn was built on the Euphrates river (both the Tigris and Euphrates originate in Turkey), creating farmland out of former desert and producing power for growing cities. An international team of archaeologists worked to rescue the city before it was flooded, and the results of their efforts are in Gaziantep's beautiful museum. The rest was destroyed by the rising water, was stolen, or was reburied for protection. Most of what they recovered were these fantastic mosaics depicting scenes from Greek/Roman myths.




This is obviously just a taste of what was there before the damn was built, and what they couldn't save was reburied to preserve it.

I found a website about the rescue, if anyone's interested in more info: http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/zeugma/about.html

Back on the Adriatic, near Pergamon, I visited the site of a huge Roman thermal spa, with Olympic sized hot pools, that is almost forgotten and due to be wiped out by another damn.

Only local opposition has saved Allianoi thus far, and currently the damn stands half-finished.

More background can be found here: http://www.guardian.co.uk/turkey/story/0,,1887394,00.html

Obviously this is a complicated issue, as the country needs water and power, and you can barely dig a hole in this place without finding some ancient ruin. Check out these sites and decide for yourself.

More coming soon!

Deb

Winter in Fairyland

Turkey is a wacky place. The first person I met in Cappadocia was a Turkish-Macedonian man with whom I could only communicate with in Spanish. You see how complicated things can get here? Anyway, it was a very cold and slippery week, but beautiful nonetheless. Cappadocia reminds me of the American Southwest in many ways. That is, if there were 1,500-years old churches and vast underground cities carved into the rock of Bryce Canyon, Zion and Capitol Reef, then we'd have a real problem with the Turkish tourist brochures. But if you know the Southwest, check out photos of Cappadocia and compare for yourself.


Like many places in Turkey, this region is an incredible collaboration between geology and history. With just one of these elements, the area would be amazing; with the marriage of the two, it's outstanding. First, you have these crazy volcanic rock formations carving into and poking up out of the otherwise desolate landscape. Then, you have Christian hideouts from the Romans and other timid types digging entire cities into the cliffs and deep into the ground, replete with ventilation shafts, narrow winding staircases, hidden tunnels, you name it. On top of all that, you have Byzantine monks carving churches into impossible cliff faces and painting elaborate frescoes inside them. If only it had flying monkeys it could be the Land of Oz.



It was freezing cold and snowing the whole week I was there, putting a slight damper on my explorations. The blanket of snow only accentuated the beauty of the natural features, however, and served the dual purpose of keeping most of the tourists away. The usually very touristy Göreme is a ghost town in wintertime, and during my stay there was eerily quiet. I did a few hikes through some of the canyons, checked out a ton of churches, climbed into a few cliff dwellings, and was too overcome by claustrophobia to go too far down into the underground cities (some are seven levels deep - eek!).


In case of threat by an invading army, roll this stone in front of the only entrance, thereby blocking yourself into a your homey network of carved-out rooms. I guess it made sense at the time, but to me, nothing could be less appealing. Even an invading army.



The canyons are beautiful, and in every nook and cranny, there is something to explore. This area must have been heavily inhabited in it's time, and with each turn, there are homes, pigeon houses, churches, tunnels or storerooms carved into the rock. After a few hours of hiking, you begin to feel like you're being watched.


A bit creepy, but very cool.

More photos on the site (http://picasaweb.google.com.tr/home) as usual.

My warmest greetings to you all,

Deborah

Santa comes to Turkey, a few days late

Hello All!

New Year's Eve was pretty interesting. I found myself in a loud smoky club, surrounded by young Turks wearing santa hats dancing wildly to a mix of Turkish music and 80's American pop. Here in Turkey, there seems to be a widespread confusion about this "Christmas" thing, which everyone is convinced is the same as New Year's Eve. I can't tell you how many times I was wished a Merry Christmas on the 31st - there were even a few Christmas trees! After a while, I gave up trying to explain the difference - what's the difference anyway, in a Muslim country? I was wholly unprepared, however, for the moment the DJ played "Hava Nagilah". Yes, for those of you Jews and honorary Jews out there, the very same Jewish wedding song! For the first time that evening, I was the only one in the room that knew the words! In fact, I was the only one in the room that any clue what the song was. Teaching the circle dance to a small group of bemused Turks was the highlight of my New Year's Eve.

Since then, I have been moving around quite a bit. Antalya, where a lovely couple took me in for an evening (Turkish hospitality is legendary) and treated me to everything, even a vegetarian home cooked meal! Konya, for a brief visit to the Rumi museum and some beautiful and very old mosques. Now I am in Cappadocia, which has the one of most incredible landscapes I have ever seen. Photos to come soon! For now, content yourselves with one of my favorites, a nanny goat reclining on an ancient Lycian carved stone. Livestock and ruins seem to go hand-in-hand here in Turkey. In the background you can make out some of the tombs cut into sheer cliffs that the Lycians cities are (were, I guess) famous for. More is on my Picasa site, of course http://picasaweb.google.com/dnemens/Olympos). The Mediterranean sun looks especially great now, as it's snowing with subzero temps here in the high country.



More to come!

Take care, and stay warm,

Deborah

The Lycian Way

I went on a beautiful hike today, on part of a path that traverses the mountains along the Mediterranean coast. It's probably a popular hike in summer - it climbs into the mountains behind the ruins of Olympos and passes through the ruins of the "Lost City" before descending to a small village on the beach - but today I had it to myself. The Lost City is supposed to be an old pirate fortress, but my guess is that most pirates would have trouble making the steep climb.



Instead of a hiking partner, this time I had time-delay.


The views to the snowy peaks were amazing. So wonderful to be up high again!

On that note, I would like to wish you all a very happy new year, wherever it finds you.

Much love,
Deborah

Ruins, old and new

I have spent the last week or so looking at tons of old rocks. Piled high, looming on hillsides, scattered amid trees. I have to admit, I am a bit maxed out on ruins at this point. However, you may not be, so here are a few selected photos from Pergamon, Ephesus, Iasos and Olympos (whew!).


This theater is the best part of the ruins at Pergamon.



The ruins at Ephesus are truly impressive, and include, among other important buildings, a library and a public toilet.



The old fortress-city of Iasos was completely empty when I visited. It's not one of the huge restored sites, but the setting of this house with mosaic floors on a hill above a bay is beautiful.

Iasos is also the setting for a typical scene in Turkey, especially along the coast: development that mars the landscape but is never even completed. In this otherwise peaceful and quiet place, huge construction projects come and then suddenly go. I don't know how long this shell of a hotel has been here, but the weeds have grown thick over the abandoned materials.


Olympos: This is probably the coolest spot for a castle.

See? Now you're tired of ruins, too.