The Turkish Bunny Hop

A wise man once said, "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get." I certainly bit into one big surprise chocolate tonight. It started innocently enough with me inquiring about the possibility of seeing a Dervish ceremony this evening. Lily at the hotel said it would be no problem at all, and she proceeded to organize everything for me. Around 5PM, I received a phone call from her, "I have arranged for you to go to a very nice place for the Dervish ceremony, and they have folk dancing, live music and a belly dancer as well. Dinner is included and your driver will pick you up at 8:15."

I immediately had my doubts about this all-inclusive package, and I also was frighteningly aware that I would be alone within reach of a belly dancer. What was done was done, though, and I decided to bite the bullet and see what would happen.

Arriving at the restaurant, a traditional Turkish drummer started playing a beat and marched me into the dining room, where I had a table for 25, set for one. They had my Mezze waiting for me at the end of the table closest to the stage. "Gangsta's Paradise" was playing over the stereo system, but oddly enough, it was being played with Turkish folk instruments. When Brittney Spears' "Toxic" came on next, I knew this was destined to be an interesting evening.

The other groups had been seated, and it was time for the Dervishes to come out. The band, including a great vocalist, did an excellent job of playing the moving religious music while the Dervishes spun themselves into a trance with their white robes floating gracefully at their sides. With one hand reaching towards God and the other drawing energy from the earth, the Dervishes put on a good show, but it was obvious that these guys weren't the real thing, and my troublesome sense of humor made me want to break out in song, "Oh Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel..." All kidding aside though, the Dervish ceremony was very calming and almost magical, and I would love to see the real thing some day.

A few folk dances and one hip rocking belly dancer later, it was time for some audience participation. I managed to remain seated using my photographer ruse as an excuse. The belly dancer embarrassed a few poor men, and then some random group dancing broke out. Soon, the Turks returned in force for another folk dance with the unavoidable display of the Turkish flag and some grunts of national pride. With that out of the way, the Turkish guys then started grabbing people from the audience and started one final display of Turkish culture, The Bunny Hop. I could barely contain myself when I realized what was happening around me, but I finally let out a chuckle when a mentally handicapped fellow in the middle of the line started grabbing the chest of the guy in front of him instead of the shoulders. Luckily, the stranger in front seemed to be aware of who was behind him and shrugged it off.

I had officially seen all I could handle, so I packed up my camera and made my way out the door. My driver seemed more than happy to be leaving a little earlier than expected.

Tea - a rather pointless monologue

Let’s talk about tea for a moment. I can hear John laughing already, but I have no cans of tea for you to sniff at the moment, just a few observations about tea as a culture. I have been in many tea drinking societies around the world, a couple on this trip already, and they all do things a little differently. Possibly to improve the world’s understanding of me as a person, I think I should share some of the positives and negatives I have experienced when it comes to tea. First of all, I strongly agree with the Persian tradition (also Turkish, Kurdish, Iraqi) of serving tea in clear glasses. The beautiful amber color of properly brewed black tea should be enjoyed by the imbiber through an unadulterated glass vessel, period.

As long as we’re talking about black tea in the Middle Eastern tradition, I have to say that the Persians do it best, followed closely by the Kurdish. The refreshingly sweet addition of cardamom to the black tea is delightful, and the occasional addition of saffron in Persian tea just makes it a step more regal. Turkish tea is nice, but it dulls in comparison to its Eastern neighbors. The Turks do a fine job, however, on the apple tea that is also prevalent on the Anatolian peninsula - it’s similar to a hot apple cider though, and can hardly be classified as tea. The best thing about tea in the Middle East is its relationship to hospitality and relaxation. In the regions I have mentioned, it’s virtually impossible to live out a day without being offered or invited for tea numerous times. Sitting back and enjoying this hot golden beverage with a healthy dose of sugar just feels right in this atmosphere. Drinking tea helps lend a pace to life; it’s time to converse, time to negotiate, time to soak up the sights and sounds. It’s much easier to complete a major purchase when you and the salesperson are both sitting back with a tea in hand, as is so often the case. It puts both parties on equal footing in a relaxed situation - the exchange of money and goods becomes secondary to the sharing of tea.

Tea in the “Western” world tends to be a major disappointment. Nothing was more disappointing than ordering a tea at the Ritz-Carlton in Istanbul and being served a bitter, over-brewed white cup of brown nastiness. It took four packets of sugar just to overcome the tangy bitter flavor of scalded tea leaves. The British like to combat improperly brewed tea (ok, sometimes properly brewed too) with milk and sugar. This is the bland man’s attempt to emulate the perfectly balanced Masala Chai of their former colonies in South Asia. Masala chai is supposed to be a blend of sweet and spicy with a touch of milk or cream to help bring balance to life. It’s an incredibly pleasurable beverage, but it is very different from the Middle Eastern tea beverages and a proper role-model for British tea lovers. In America, we’ve been overwhelmed with trendy new tea shops that offer every imaginable blend and flavor under the sun. I’ve fallen in love with many of these establishments, but a tea purist would find many faults in their offerings - that’s ok, I’m a moderate tea lover at heart, so I’ll take advantage of their fruity blends and bastardized versions of tea staples from around the world.

I had in mind to continue my tea lecture with writings on my experiences in Japan and the fine green teas of Asia, but instead, I’ll end things here with the option to continue when I make it to China and might be confronted with more tea traditions or tea travesties. Time will tell.

Kapadokya - Caveman Style

The wind is whistling around the rocks and hills as I sit in my big comfy hammock-like chair and stare out the “window” of my cave. I think there might be a storm tonight, which could only add to the surreal experience of peering into the life of Kapadokya (Cappadocia). It’s like another planet out there with the towering rock formations littering the landscape. Hell, it’s like another planet in here too - I mean seriously, I’m sleeping in a cave.

Aside from the disappointment of finding out that I could have stayed at the Flintstones Hotel down the road in Goreme, today has been a very nice introduction to the region. Rocks, caves, churches, mountains, “fairy chimneys,” mosques, hotels, restaurants, tea houses; they all start to look the same after a while, but the peaceful atmosphere and mystical nature of this region are captivating. Early Christians took refuge in the caves and underground cities, carving out homes and churches from the volcanic rock. They had an invisible civilization, as it were, and their mark on this land is moving, unfortunately, so have the Christians. Back in the 1920s, there was a forced population swap where Christians from Kapadokya were moved to Greece and the Muslim Turks were transferred from Greece to here. It’s a tragic story of politics that changed the history of this region forever, but it has made it no less fascinating to visit.


One of the highlights of the day was stopping at a local ceramics workshop in Avanos. Deep inside yet another cave, one family has been producing and selling ceramics according to local tradition for the last 200 years. One of the potters demonstrated how they still use a kick wheel to turn the pottery. He made a perfect vase in about 3 minutes. They offered to let me try, but I didn’t want to embarrass the potter by making a something better and faster. Later, one of the guys in the shop asked me if I had seen the whirling dervishes perform yet. When I told him no, he announced that his cousin that had demonstrated the pottery-making was also a Dervish. “He spun around on that wheel so much as a child that he couldn’t stop, so now he goes every night to perform as a Dervish.”

I’m finding the rural regions of Anatolia to be much more to my liking than the bustling city of Istanbul. Cities can be a lot of fun, but I love exploring and relaxing in the more authentic locations.

Two Days in Istanbul... not Constantinople

14 JUNE 2009

I had planned on having my first couch surfing experience staying at someone else’s place here in Istanbul, but I didn’t manage to find a host, so I ended up at the Ritz-Carlton instead. Not a bad trade, in theory, but I would have preferred to meet some more locals and have someone with whom to explore the city. That said, I’ve been very well taken care of at the Ritz, and Istanbul is a beautiful city. Straddling two continents, split by the turquoise waters of the Bosphorus, minarets shooting up towards the blue sky from every neighborhood in the city, Istanbul is enchanting in many ways, but I’m not in love. With 16 million people, Istanbul is a huge, busy city, and somewhat overwhelming.

On the way to the hotel from the airport, my taxi driver lectured me on Istanbul traffic and then nearly got into a fist fight with a particularly rude motorcyclist. Instead of wasting my time with a fight, he wrote the number of the license plate on his hand and simply said, “I kill him later.”

Saturday, I decided to hire a guide and explore the old town. Together, we explored the streets of Sultanahmet, visiting Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque, the Basilica Cistern, Topkapi palace and the spice market. In between, we stopped at one of the more reputable rug wholesalers in town, and in a moment of weakness, I ended up purchasing three beautiful carpets from the Ararat region of Turkey. My guide had stepped out for a cigarette while I made my carpet selections, but when she returned, she said that I had picked out her favorite one. “When he pulled out that carpet at first, I immediately fell in love - you have great taste for beautiful things.”

Wandering around the spice market, I was impressed by the honesty of one vendor vying for my business. “Come in, we cheat less here, just enough.” The great success of the day was when we hailed a taxi to go back to the hotel and ended up with the same driver that had taken us into town. Over 30,000 taxis in the city, and we managed to find the same one twice. My guide was very happy because she said she almost always has to argue with drivers from the old town. The spice guy may cheat less, but taxi drivers here have a tendency to cheat more. That’s why it’s always better to get a driver at one of the major hotels because the hotels only allow the more honest drivers to work their properties.

It was my intent to have a relaxing day today, perhaps spending it by the pool at the hotel, but the Concierge, Cenk, had other plans for me. Cenk sought me out at breakfast to make sure I had a good tour yesterday. He pulled out a map and asked what all I saw on the tour so that he could plan out the day for me. His list included three suggestions, Dolmabahce Palace, a Bosphorus cruise, and a visit to the Ortakoy neighborhood. I decided to take his advice and do all three. I took a taxi over to Ortakoy, where I wandered around a bit and then boarded a boat to see the city from the water. After an hour long cruise, I decided to walk back to Dolmabahce and my hotel from Ortakoy because it looked deceivingly nearby from the water. Though longer than expected, the walk was very pleasant, but it ended with a disgustingly steep uphill trek from the river to my hotel.

Upon my return, Cenk announced that he had made dinner reservations for me at a place voted one of the 50 best restaurants in the world, Kosebasi. I was very excited to try the restaurant, but I have to admit that I was not impressed. The best part of the meal was the bread - a variety of fresh baked Turkish flat breads that were fantastic. Otherwise, all of the food was good, but nothing memorable. I went heavy on the eggplant tonight with yogurt-eggplant dip, pickled eggplant dip, and Patlincanli Kebap (minced lamb kebabs with grilled eggplant) all accompanied with a tomato salad, a Turkish cheese pastry and a small Lahmacun (meat pizza). The food was nothing special, and the service was mediocre as well. The place seemed to do a lot of delivery business with the breads, pizzas and kebabs, and I would probably be very satisfied with the restaurant as a delivery place, but I strongly disagree with the rave reviews the restaurant received in general. I took a short stroll after dinner, and then returned to the hotel for a tea and a scoop of pistachio ice cream.

Tomorrow, I leave for the Cappadocia region, where I hope to get a more authentic view of Turkey.