"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.