Home is where the Heart is

"I met a lot of people in Europe. I even encountered bits and pieces of myself"

It was a constant rush of emotions as we prepared to bid farewell to Athens, Greece, and Europe.  The whirlwind adventure of travel, food and new faces was coming to an end – but our love for every memory shone ever-bright. ‘Twas the season, as the entire city was decked out in Holiday spirit. Not nearly as decorative as the United States, it still rang true to a merry atmosphere. Setting aside (rather unwisely) the end-of-semester schoolwork and assignments, we frequented trendy bars, many local tavernas and lots of chocolateries that provided yummy comfort and added to our desire to extend our stay. There were delightful visits to the houses of staff members who so graciously invited us for evenings of warm fuzzy feelings (brought on by the copious amounts of wine and delicious home-cooked food) and tinkling laughter.

Dark chocolate Aztec creations, a warm delight for a chilly evening

Food aside, the festivities ensued in the form of lots of get-togethers and parties. The traditional holiday parties attracted excitement at the prospect of returning home. A roommate’s birthday party was a huge success as we hosted most of the students and went all out. The final sendoff party on the last night however, was the most unforgettable; endless displays of food, a video montage of the semester highlights and Greek dancing all forced tears and smiles as we reveled in the moment. That moment we wished we could have frozen in time: we were carefree, beyond grateful for a brilliant semester, and dejected at the fact that we had to leave.

Street performers, Athens-style

As with all good things that indeed come to an end, ours came with quite a bang. The highlights include a day at a fish spa where the notorious doctor fish nibbled at our feet and supposedly ate away the dead and unwanted skin. Whether or not that truly occurred, it was still the weirdest feeling ever – not intended for the squeamish or ticklish. With no idea what convinced me to concede to experiencing it, it was well worth it and our feet did look somewhat ‘polished’ as we carefully extracted them from the aquatic creatures' holds. The day continued with a goodbye visit to the Acropolis, the Agora and the various other ancient monuments in the city. They taught us so much and will always stand clear in our hearts when we remember many a glorious afternoon spent in the timeless Athenian city.

Looking directly at them made it harder not to recoil in fear

Continuing with the fun amusements, there were many stops at local bazaars and markets to splurge on presents and gifts for people at home. It’s going to take considerable will-power to give them away and not keep them myself. Juggling packing, finals and frolicking was difficult, but it had to be done. Papers after papers were somehow written and exams were prepared for; but really all we wanted to do was spend nights out on the town and afternoons in the still-warm Mediterranean sunshine. I tearfully thanked and spent one last evening with the girl I tutor and her family. She had finals as well – that added to the frazzled state of mind, to say the least.By far the most significant event was the day we stumbled upon a silent demonstration. Another protest…in Greece…who would have thought? This one however, was the first of its kind that we witnessed all semester. It was focused on anti-racism and was organized in a spirit of peace. Organized by the European Grassroots Anti-Racism Movement (EGAM), it represented over 27 European countries that assembled to show their solidarity against the growing neo-Nazism in Greece. They have asserted that Greece is the “worst country in Europe when it comes to acceptance of multi-ethnic and multi-cultural diversity”. Probably not a great statistic if the nation hopes to become a prominent player in the European Union and the global network. Immigration and subsequent integration is a central issue to developing and sustaining a socially healthy community.

"Europe against Neo-Nazism"

The next we knew, we were holding signs and being photographed by international media and interviewed by numerous news stations. We held the front banner as they began the symbolic procession from Syntagma Square (also known as Constitution Square) to the Acropolis. Irony aside, this was intended to reinforce the desired approach towards the issue: the current government and political atmosphere is inadequate to address the concern and there needs to be a shift to the ancient but more genuine form of democracy. Several supporting members of Greek Parliament showed up and participated, we met them as well as made friends from all over the continent who were there specifically to voice their perspective on this critical matter.
There has been growing negative illusions about the (permanently) growing non-Greek community, most of them falsely grounded in incomplete knowledge and unfamiliarity. These ‘others’ are perceived as a threat and a risk to a fully functional society. However, we thought it was remarkable that the first and only demonstration that we had encountered that was non-violent, peaceful, practical and ended successfully was this one. It had nothing to do - directly - with the fiscal situation and was largely comprised on non-Greeks. It was promising to meet and observe the few Greeks that were present however. They were all mostly emigrants from Greece themselves and were adamant that things change here – "people cannot expect changes in so many other areas without fundamentally altering their attitudes on this immediate topic".

All of the European organizers - inclusive diversity at its finest

After being invited to a post-demonstration talk and press conference at their hotel, we satisfactorily justified our academic negligence with the real impact we were having. It was the most rewarding instance of being part of the community we have come to call our own in the past few months. We have become invested in their interests and can now to call Athens ‘home’; it goes to show that anyone can belong everywhere. It is true that national, religious and cultural factors, among others, influence true identities and a sense of belonging. On some level, though, it is eternally acknowledged that “home is where the heart is”.
On a different note and at the other end of the spectrum, a couple monasteries within the city were also on the agenda. Just to provide closure to the fact that, for the most part, to be Greek is equivalent to be Greek Orthodox. Beautiful as always, we were blessed and sent on our way with local treats and trinkets from the nuns and priests. Generous as ever, they never fail to add a positive spin to any situation – even if that includes encouraging us to trudge through the mountain of work that never seemed to come to an end.

Casual view from the Acropolis: Temple of Olympian Zeus, the Panathenaic Stadium, and our humble abode

The guards outside the Parliament. Supposedly the most highly trained personnel in the nation

There shall be an Ode of Greece; a heartfelt thank you for the perfect experience it presented; a goodbye that marks only a temporary absence with a promise to reunite and continue life’s unpredictable shenanigans. This is just the end…of yet another new beginning. For, in the end, it is not going to matter much how many breaths you took in the moment, but rather how many moments took your breath away. Rest assured, those moments were ever-present, ever-marvelous, and ever-lasting.

Attack on the Senses

"No journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within "

The fear of not being allowed into a country is very real. Especially when all you want to do is spend an enjoyable weekend away from school experiencing a lovely new place. Especially when you’re a student committed to life elsewhere and will most definitely not be illegally immigrating to this new place. Especially when the people you are travelling with breeze through passport control leaving you to figure out how to avoid a fiasco.

Istanbul, Turkey – the weekend was full of frustration, disbelief, and confusion. For the most part though, it was full of color, vibrancy, laughter, flavor and abundance. It started with a glorious nap on the two hour flight, followed by the airport incident. As we left the terminal and headed to customs and immigration, there was Passport Control 1 which had a list of countries – the United States included – from where, if you were a citizen of one of them, all you had to do was have a sticker stamped into your passport and pay the visa processing fee. India wasn’t on there. For a brief but joyous twenty minutes I stood happily in line with every passenger who arrived in Turkey in the Other Passport/Passport Control line; I simply thought I lucked out and wouldn’t have to do anything to enter as a tourist.

To put it gently, I was foolishly wrong. I finally approached the officer; he asked me, “do you want to enter this country or no? Where is your visa? Go stand in line at Passport Control 2”. Well, that makes more sense, I thought. So I grudgingly but much more enlightened, left and walked the ten minutes it took to find this special place. There, I by-passed the endless rows of empty stanchions and walked confidently up to a stern looking official. He looked through my passport and then told me to go find the ticket office to buy a visa permit. Frustration begins to settle in. At least this time I was greeted by a lady, and the sole consolation I received throughout the whole ordeal was that I had to pay significantly less to acquire a visa than citizens from the States. I was then told by her to return to the Passport Control line. This line had now extended to what looked like a forty minute wait because of the large volume of incoming flights that afternoon.

I make it to the front, try a different authority from last time, and smile as I hesitantly hand over my passport and the receipt for my visa. He looks at it, and then right as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief he looks confused and asks for my visa. This could not be happening again. Unbelievably, he told me once more to go and get an actual stamp in spite of the woman informing me I wouldn’t need one. At this point my poor friends were waiting (so patiently) right beyond the invisible line that separated us from the best weekend ever.

I avoided eye contact with all the staring passengers as I backtracked through the mile-long line and headed back to Passport Control 2. There the man who spoke to me earlier started chatting about why I wanted to visit Turkey, what I wanted to do there, and if I was available for dinner and drinks that night. Ten very strange minutes later, I tried not to jump for joy as they stamped something that looked official in my passport and let me pass through without going through the ridiculous line. I was finally free of the burden of transnational border control, free of the traumatic process that it takes to be a world traveler, and free of the frown lines that had almost been permanently etched into my face.

In retrospect it was intriguing: I got to watch a microcosm of the whole world pass through that airport – people from all over the world and how they interacted with their surroundings, I tried to interpret the Turkish signs – desperately failing to do so, and I found a place to exchange my precious Euros for Turkish Liras (one Euro is equal to exactly two Turkish Liras).

With my suitcase off the conveyor belt and in the custody of my anxious travel companions, we grimaced and complained about bureaucracy, put on our smiles and ventured out to begin the real adventure that eagerly awaited us. Navigating the metro stops and hopping onto an inter-city tram, we arrived in the center of the Old City – Sultanahmet – an hour later and began the search for our hostel. Add to this scenario the fact that it was pouring rain: the whole day, and the next day too. With umbrellas out and curiosity out further, we walked through the tourist section and were overwhelmed with the sights, smells and sounds we encountered. True to our Greek-ness, we stayed at the Hostel Agora, which was a great choice. It was super clean and had delicious breakfast spreads (dates ,figs and dried apricots go wonderfully well in yogurt and museli), and the kindest people both running the place and sharing our ten-person dormitory. It was also so inexpensive that we were thankfully not scammed. They helped us settle in, showed us how to get around, advised us as to what to do, and made us feel more at home.

Without further ado, we walked out of the warmth and into the rain to find the Grand Bazaar. After a quick stop at a restaurant called The Pudding Shop (which served excellent tomato-stuffed eggplant), finally tasting the roasted chestnuts from the street that we see everywhere in Greece and Italy as well (and which are soft but chewy but smoky and just full of goodness), and checking the map multiple times (which we very quickly became disenchanted with, considering the whole city is full of people doing and going to the same places), we made our grand entrance into the Bazaar.

Blink, and you'll miss all the magic

Self-described as one of “the most exciting shopping experiences in the world”, they kid you not. Words fail you as you can barely navigate the labyrinthine maze that winds, turns and branches with almost every step. Two things are visible: the elaborately decorated roof with Arabic art and the shops. There are hundreds and hundreds (5,000 to be exact) of stalls, awnings, enclaves, stores, big rooms and side-carts. Don’t even think of coming out empty-handed, if you can manage to come out at all. Goods produced from all over the world are displayed in all their extravagance here. The best “deals” you believed you’ve ever snagged will pale in comparison to the feeling you embrace after spending three hours (like we did) soaking in all that this magical place had to offer.

“Where are you from?” “Here, come let me help you buy something you don’t need” “Hey girls, look you dropped something…my heart” “No, no, just come and see, don’t buy…but you will want to soon, I know” “Come and let me take some of your money from you, it must be heavy to carry around” “Angels! Where is your Charlie?” “Look at my store, I have things almost as beautiful as you are” “See our genuine fake merchandise” “You walk like a lady on a mission…to win my love” “Here, look at all these things you want to take from me”

Non-stop, and on repeat: these one-liners were uproarious and we couldn’t stop giggling the entire time. They will do anything to get you to buy what they have to sell. Including quoting ‘x’ TL initially, only to end up settling on around a fourth of that price. A shopaholic’s and bargain-lover’s heaven, it was consumerism at its finest. A paradise for anything and everything your heart could ever hope to desire, it was like the whole place was pulsating with an invisible energy that propelled you to feel like it is an alternate universe. Which it basically is, for all intents and purposes.

Exhausted and still being harassed by vendors, we somehow made it out alive and well. It was such a rush, and given the chance we could have easily stayed there for quite a bit longer. But the night was still young and there were still things to see and places to go. We found a quiet and quick place for dinner, after stopping along the way at two more street carts to buy little trinkets. It served traditional Turkish dishes like spiced cauliflower, cheese-stuffed zucchini, meat and lamb pies, and copious amounts of rice and bread. Scarfing it down and comparing purchases, we then settled down at a hookah café near our hostel. With apple tea and Turkish delights to keep us awake, we spent a few hours meeting locals and other tourists while learning how to blow smoke rings and play traditional Turkish string instruments.

Winded and ready for an early morning, we woke up the next morning to many things: more rain, breakfast on the roof-top, and a full day of exploring ahead. The first stop was the Blue Mosque. Veiled with scarves and long skirts, we admired the hand-made ceramic tiles and plushy woven carpets that adorn the interior of the mosque. Formally called the Sultan Ahmed Mosque, all along the interior façade are delicately engraved blue tiles which lend their notoriety to the mosque’s more popular name. Still a fully functional place of worship, the most interesting aspect we noticed (after learning so much in our classes this semester) were the distinct Byzantine and Ottoman influences on the architecture of the building. It still lives up to its initial claims of grandeur and opulence.

Blue Mosque by night

Shoes on and umbrellas at the ready, we dashed across the expansive courtyard to visit the Haghia Sophia. These two buildings are separated by a majestic hexagonal fountain that by day brings a joyous sentiment to the surroundings and by night enchants those who pass by with its mystical rhythms of lights and water play. First an Orthodox basilica, then a mosque and now a museum, it was secularized by the Turkish Government in 1935 and open to the public. It witnessed a proud and momentous history; the construction of it changed forever the way Byzantine churches would be built and the Ottoman conquest of it added Islamic influences to the structure and aesthetics of it. It is difficult to describe how elaborate the carving and interior decorations are – skillful woodwork and artistic calligraphy are ever-present on both the upper and lower levels.

Haghia Sophia

Feasting the eyes upon centuries of decadence

Continuing with the theme this semester of visiting holy places, we arrived next at Topkapi Palace. It was the seat of the Ottoman Sultan for 400 years and was the royal palace for state occasions and engagements. Large courtyards to wander through and unimaginable amounts of wealth are concealed behind the Imperial Gates of this palace, and the cloak and sword of Muhammed are said to reside here as well. Stunning in the presentation of the old treasure and fortune, the elaborate layout of the grounds and building in itself was the most impressive feature.

If the urge to ever see an eerie and chilling cistern doused in dim lights and dark waters strikes your fancy, pay a visit to the Basilica Cistern in the city. This water-proof chamber that holds mainly water is enthralling to walk though because at the end lie two columns supported from underneath by Medusa’s head. One is upside-down and the other is sideways, so as to negate the effect of the mythical legend of the observer turning to stone. Its origins unknown, they are believed to have been taken from the Roman Empire. It was built during the Byzantine Empire and we learned that it continued to supply water to Topkapi Palace during Ottoman rule.

Tread carefully, and thus you shall be guided

The Egyptian Bazaar is more fondly known as the Spice Bazaar, and seems to be one of the largest spice trading venues anywhere. It is mind-boggling to ponder over the centuries of trade, commerce and markets that have prevailed under this large indoor souk. Mountains of spices and heaps of herbs, overflowing displays of teas and coffees, dried fruits and nuts, and exotic fragrances and essential oils – it was an attack on the senses. The key is to accept the beckoning venders’ calls to taste and sample their delights (especially the Turkish ones). Not at all shy about trying everything on display, we feasted on the sweet and savory treats this lively enclosure has to offer. We encountered yet more lines yelled at us from the merchants and basked in the glory of pretending to haggle for things we had no intention of buying (but which we were ultimately persuaded to do so anyway – it is inevitable).

Overload on the senses

If that wasn’t enough to exhaust us, nothing is. We headed back to the hostel to take a quick break, freshen up and make plans for dinner. We walked around Sultanahmet and settled on a rooftop terrace restaurant with a view of the Haghia Sophia, the fountain and the Blue Mosque. Artistic presentations are the restaurant’s claim to fame and their play on colors and flavors echoed the eccentric and wild excitement of the Spice Bazaar. Earlier in the day we also ran into a few other students studying at our institution but under a different program. They were visiting Istanbul for the weekend too and they invited us to head over to Taksim Square that night. We were joined also by an Australian dancer who is touring the world and was spending some time in Istanbul before heading off to Israel. He was extremely entertaining to say the least; he was the star of the night with his wild curly blond hair and impeccable accent.

Ahh, Taksim Square. It is considered the heart of modern European Istanbul. With its beautiful nationalist monuments and fountains, we were there to test the famed nightlife that it boasts. With a never-ending stretch of nightclubs and bars, we eventually settled on a very interesting one. The first door leads into a semi-open alleyway with a live Turkish band playing traditional celebration music. There were people eating dinner still (at midnight) and dancing all along the way. At the end of this was a swanky club that looked like it was hosting a raging party. We danced for hours, kept getting free drinks and alcohol from the bartender who apparently took a liking to this crazy group of American youngsters. We would alternate with periods of joining in the revelry outside and met some wonderful Turkish people as well. Not too shabby of a night for exploring life after hours in this cosmopolitan and diverse city.

Too many drinks later and an infuriating taxi driver later, we were sound asleep, only to be rudely woken up by our alarms a few hours later. What instantly cheered us up was the bright and sunny forecast for the day. Not a cloud in sight, and it deigned to allow us one hassle free day in the beautiful city. Actually able to see the sunrise from our breakfast table, we headed out to explore what little we could before it was time to leave.

First up was the Galata Bridge. While architecturally magnificent, this engineering feat is compounded by its symbolic significance. It linked the traditional city of Istanbul proper – with the imperial palace and principle religious and secular institutions of the Empire – with markedly different districts that were home to the non-Muslims of the time, including foreign diplomats and merchants. It bridged the gap (literally and metaphorically) between these two distinct cultures and civilizations. This bond, romantic in itself, can be felt as one traverses the bridge to get to the other side. Steeply angled roads and one short hill later, we entered the Galata Tower. It is the oldest tower anywhere in the world, which is currently open to the public. Also the tallest structure at the time of its construction, it offers a breathtaking panoramic view of the mosques, basilicas, palaces and landscapes that make the city as remarkable as it is. After taking our pictures and wistfully soaking in the glorious horizon, we walked back down and back over the bridge to the Sulimaniye Mosque.

Galata Bridge and Galata Tower beckoning us to visit

The largest one in the city, the mosque is to Istanbul what the Acropolis is to Athens in significance. It too blends Byzantine and Islamic aesthetic elements. We walked around the beautiful garden that encloses the building, noting the cemetery and the well-maintained lawns. Inside the large square courtyard was a newly-wedded couple taking photographs. The Bride’s gown was exquisite – it had pears and beads delicately embroidered around lace details. Her headpiece was similarly extravagant and the whole effect was ethereal (the Groom was dashing as well, don’t worry). Inside the Mosque, while the prayer ensued, the tourists were able to observe the reading of the Quran and respectfully admire the ivory, marble and wood work that creates the intense yet effective tasteful interior.

After we walked down the almost 90 degree sloped hill, it was time to switch continents. It was just another day as we causally decided to make the ten minute journey to Asia. Running to catch the ferry, they slammed the door in our faces just as we were about to board the ramp, and – snickering gleefully – told us to wait for the next one. Soon enough, we were watching the landscape of Istanbul escape our view as we anchored in the harbor of Kadikoy. The whole entire afternoon I found it highly amusing that, technically, I could make it on foot all the way back home to India if I so fancied.

After haggling with a man on the street and buying scarves for one Euro each, we gleefully made our way to the port and walked along the water. We walked through a gigantic park that had so many playgrounds that we had to stop and climb the monkey bars. We swung too high, laughed like silly children on the see-saw and tried to attempt the futuristic new contraptions that looked like they belonged more at a gym than at a park. With the sun playfully guiding us further and further, we stumbled upon a well-hidden gem.

The municipality of Pasa Limani owns the park as well as the adjacent restaurant-café that might well be the most successful establishment we encountered the whole trip. It is an upscale chic eatery with modern décor and very helpful waiters. All outdoor, it is set on the water itself with wooden beams overhead that lend to its extended feel. On the one hand, it is the kind of place that serves high-end entrées and classy inspired desserts to fill you with delightful satisfaction. On the other hand however, the subsidized menu by the local government makes it more than affordable – shockingly so – permitting you to try most of their dishes.

After the best Turkish meatballs doused in tomatoes, eggplant and parsley followed by a chocolate ganache-cake with caramelized pecans and Turkish apple-cinnamon tea, we were all smiles and smugly exclaimed how luckily we stumbled upon this local secret. We remarked at our ability to communicate without any Turkish on our part nor any English on the staff’s part – and still managing to eat an excellent meal.

Sunset in Asia

Sadly it was time to get going, and say goodbye to Asia. We had a very cheerful walk back to the pier and reflected the weekend. What was most compelling was how much we fell in love with the city despite so many mishaps and unfortunate weather. It is a city of so many talents, secrets and quirks. Easy to fall in love with, yet it has no qualms leaving you to figure out your own mess. A city for the mentally courageous, and the physically resilient.

Never a dull moment, Istanbul is a city that compels you to break free of your preconceived boundaries and plunge carefree into the chaos it proudly exudes. Up till the very last minute, when we almost missed our flight, had to persuade airport security to let us in ahead of the line, and ran the length of the entire terminal, the weekend was a grand success. Laden with gifts, happy memories and one last Turkish delight, we made our way back to Athens. Home sweet home for the next two weeks until we are released back into the world and return home home for the Holidays.