The Squooshy

And the adventcha continues…

Day 3: Sat March 29, Walkabout Istanbul

Saturday was our first ‘real day’ to explore.  We gave the subway system a try and went to go see the to the Galata Tower; Dave Morales worked his magic and made the subway process seamless for all of us.  It is, after all, what he does.

Dave, the Travel-Maven

If you are traveling somewhere new-to-you, you may wish to draw the long straw that is “pair-me-with-Dave-Morales”. He’s the guy that spends time before he travels looking at maps to acclimate himself to landmarks and researches the mobile phone options, the public transportation options, and what to expect from Taxis vs Ubers. I’m telling you, befriend yourself a Dave Morales—or better yet, just pay for him to take a trip with you. He’ll figure out all the cool places to go and just point you and accompany you. He’ll make all the travel arrangements and figure out how to maximize flight times and minimize ticket expense or AMEX point usage. In our lives together, it’s the area where I am the most ‘kept’ as a woman.

#HighlyRecommend

#ForAFee

The Subway Token

On the subway to Galata, there was a gentleman—perhaps in his early 60s—dressed in a three piece but very casual linen suit and carrying amber Muslim prayer beads.  He had kind eyes and seemed fairly pre-ocuppied with whether or not the three ladies in our group each had a seat or not on the subway.  So long as one of us were standing, this gentleman, was unsatisfied to remain seated.  I wish I had made his acquaintance.  But something about him—his demeanor, his sincerity, his sense of honor perhaps—endeared him to me. He was my introduction to Islam in Türkiye. Of course, a person is not their religion and vice versa.  But, I was grateful to have an initial ‘schema’ for my brain to refer back to that was so positive.  I think that was a little gift (or ‘token’—see what I did there?).  So, thanks Big Guy.  

A lotta Galata

The Galata tower was cool; it gave a great view of the city.  Shopping along the way was cooler. Daniel got a kick out of all of the musical instrument shops we found. Emma, my niece, found a flower head-wreath befitting of her natural beauty and her crunchy vibes. And we got a photo with the craftswoman.

Daniel also found a toy vendor selling Turkish Yo-Yos and spent our time in-queue for the tower learning how to master it. He didn’t. But he tried. Apparently the vendor’s way of communicating the right and wrong way to yo-yo mastery was “problem” (followed by showing him the incorrect way) and “no problem” (followed by showing him the correct way).

That quickly became our way of correcting each other that day and, hopefully will continue for the rest of the trip:

• “Is problem”
• “No problem” 
• “PROBLEM!! PROBLEM!!”

Istanbul (or Constantinople) FAQ:

If you haven’t traveled to Istanbul before, you may want to know some things.  This is what I would want to know before going:

• If you love cats, this city is gonna be your jam. If you are allergic, yeah, I don’t know what to tell you. Inhaler maybe? There are cats…..everywhere.  Walking around. Chilling on warm moped seats. Wearing Fez, apparently. Hanging in planter boxes (which makes you think they may grow them there). And there are many unmanned stands where you can put a coin in, purchase kibble, and leave it for the locals (and by locals I mean cats, not Turks). 
• Not only are there cats everywhere, they are all tame. It’s like the city populous is their collective owner and they aren’t neglectful owners; everyone seems to care for them. Many (erm…cats, not the city populous) are even spayed/neutered, as evidenced by a marking on one of their ears.  And, they (the cats) come up to you for pets, scratches, snack-opportunities, and that weird leg-rubbing thing. Some (again, I feel as though I should specify once more that I’m talking about 🐈‍⬛ not 👫) will jump right into your lap.
• Wow, pronouns are weird. 😮‍💨
• Istanbul: she hilly.  If you are a desk jockey by day and have not figured out how to get consistent leg days in your life—well, you are in for a few days of quad quandaries.  And maybe some ankle anarchy. I’m not saying it happened to me. But I’m not not saying it either. 
• Also, cobble stones + rain = slick and this is a very old place (and, no, ADA is not a thing here). So, make sure your kicks have traction and expect uneven surfaces, stairs of varying heights, steps without handrails, and to absolutely face plant if you do not watch where you are going. I’m not saying it happened to me…but I’m not not saying it either.
• Tobacco is not taboo. If you got ‘em smoke em. That seems to be the rule of thumb here. Taking a taxi?  It’s gonna have a smoky smell. Hotel room?  Yeah. Maybe there too 😷. Outdoor cafe?  You guessed it: 🚬. Allergy sufferers: 🤷‍♀️. What you gonna do?
• If you’ve heard it is scary, I would tell you that I, personally, have felt quite safe. The vibe has felt just like any other European city. There is a majority Muslim population, which is a different experience for most Americans, but it is a Secular city. Our tour guide lamented, that the movie ‘Midnight Express’ continues to cast a negative light on generations of Turks even 45+ years later because it did such a good job telling a story and did such a poor job of representing a culture. There were simply no positive Turkish characters in that film.
• If you want to die on a hill over whether it should be called “Istanbul or Constantinople” you may be disappointed to learn that both names mean some version of “I’m going to the city”. Oh, and that catchy 90s song wasn’t even originally recorded by They Might be Giants (look it up!).  So…..maybe find another hill?

New Old Ways

We visited an Eastern Orthodox Church that we found—it was the first for us, but we found shortly that it would not be our last. We enjoyed walking around and noting the differences and trying to understand what we were looking at—not having had any prior exposure to an Eastern Orthodox Church and intending to just be visitors to an inactive building. When 4pm hit, however, the bells rang, priests sprang out from behind doors, and we had a sudden opportunity to experience an Eastern Orthodox service for the first time.

I found it to be exciting and bewildering—that this grandfather of my own Protestant faith has been around so long but was so foreign to me. It also made me smile that the 2 large doors the priests sprang from (and kept going back into) had large paintings of angels on them—such that the larger than life angels moved whenever a priest came in and out of the sanctuary.

They sang nearly unceasingly throughout the service though none of it (save “Christos” and “Kyrie Elieson”) was in a language I understood. There were hand signals I didn’t always follow—including a request to uncross one’s legs during the service 🤷🏻‍♀️) and some kind of silent communication between 2 of the priests (which, to be fair, could have been as simple as, “you are not keeping the appropriate tempo during this hymn”).

There were 4 priests involved and I couldn’t quite understand the differentiation of the roles. There was a backroom where one of the priests faced away from the rest of the congregation—save for a brief moment. There was incense and bell-ringing—a lot of it. And hats and vestments I didn’t recognize. But there was so much to take in and I was thrilled at the privilege and for the patience the priests used with the tourists in their congregation.

Call to Prayer

Another first: our first experience with a daily prayer over the city’s loud speakers was a very unusual thing to experience as a person of the western (Judeo-Christian) persuasion. There is simply nothing to compare to this back at home—at least not for me. We learned that this is something that follows a prescribed time (but is dependent on the position of the sun in the sky) and has been used in community to coincide with waking hours and sleeping hours and meal times.

Each subsequent time I heard the call to prayer, it made me think of our metro friend that was so invested in the prioritization of my ability to find a seat.  And it made me smile. Again, good job, Big Guy.

That’s a wrap on Day 3

We finished the evening with a Trolley ride home—which is a fun throw back in any town—followed by our first (of many) group dinners with the rest of our tour group. Trolley Ride credit goes to Dave Morales.

I was excited to meet Brian Zahnd, author, pastor, and tour-sponsor, for the first time.  I do have to say that I did not feel too people-y so I did not mingle all that much.  But I did my best to go with it.

Though I had planned to write about Sunday’s adventures too, we just packed so much in to Sunday, that I can’t get it all out in one post.  So, until next time, the Adventcha continues…..