endless spring

Time has slipped away and I have less than a week left in paradise. So much has happened in the last two months; it's been hard to digest. First there was Greece. At the last minute, I decided to join some friends in Athens. I flew in on a Monday and that night we took a ferry to Santorini. The island is exactly how you imagine it - white buildings, blue shutters, rolling hills. Although the island was beautiful, Athens wasn't much to write home about. The city is in shambles - graffiti on most buildings and prostitutes and drug dealers on every corner. The historical sights were inspiring, but one day in the city is enough.

Santorini

Ruins in Athens

Athens

Following the short jaunt to Greece, a few friends and I capitalized on a long weekend and headed to Kelebelek Vadisi, otherwise known as Butterfly Valley. In southern Anatolia, Butterfly Valley is the most beautiful place I've ever seen. Standing at the doorstep of our bungalow, the view of the valley took my breath away morning after morning. We trekked down the valley and spent a day at the beach. The water was warm and the sand even warmer. I fell in love there and will certainly go back.

The sunset. Soak it in.

The view of the valley.

Our hostel. Amazing people.

Our time here feels more brief with each passing day. This morning, the first of my roommates left. At a restaurant on the Asian side we ate entire fish (heads and eyes included) and drank too much Raki. We took a water taxi back, played with some street dogs and ate waffles in Bebek. It was a beautiful night. It was a beautiful end to what we've had here.

you better run

The weather is at some strange place; it's stuck between to-cold-for-anything-but-a-coat and so-hot-you-want-to-shed-your-pants. In between these two phases, of course, there's rain. Needless to say, when the time presents itself where the wind isn't whipping in your face and the heavens aren't dumping buckets of rain on your head, it's an opportunity to be seized. That is exactly what a few friends and I did this past weekend. On Friday, we headed over to Topkapı Sarayı - the governmental hub of the Ottoman Empire before Dolmabahçe began to be used.

Beautiful Islamic architecture.

On going up keep

Cabana by the pool

On Saturday, we decided to check out a more local gem of Turkish history - Rumeli Hisarı. It's a fortress built along the Bosphorus at its narrowest point. The place is amazing - countless stairs that wind to the sky at unimaginable angles make this place look like a Dali painting come to life. One word of wisdom, though - this is definitely not the place to explore if you're afraid of heights. The staircases soar high above sea level and are not secured with any rails or safety devices. Tread wisely.

Stairway to heaven. Someone should write a song about that...

This is real.

Equal parts ominous and beautiful.

vision of a gentle coast

My apartment hosted a dinner/party Friday night. As bowls of chili, sauerkraut, and tabbouleh were passed around (it was a multi-cultural event, obviously), a few of us made plans to head to the Prens Adaları (Princes' Islands) the next day. Around 10 of us decided to depart by ferry for the fourth and biggest island, Büyükada, at 10:30 am. Somewhere between making plans, drinking too much Efes, and waking up at 10, we missed the ferry we wanted to take. Despite this, a few of us got in touch and decided to go through with the plans. After an hour and a half ferry ride, we arrived at Büyükada.

Ferry ride. Somewhere on the Marmara.

 
The island is devoid of cars, but if you didn't know it before hand, the scent of horse crap would clue you in. The horses are everywhere - pulling carriages, standing around, grazing through the parks.

Wildish horses.

We rented bikes and took in as much of the island as we could. We managed to catch one of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever experienced. We ended the trip with dondurma and waffles and decided to return again at a later date. If there is such thing as heaven on Earth, Büyükada might be it.

Even more beautiful in person.

all along the eastern shore

An earthquake erupted off-shore Japan today. Watching the footage of the resultant tidal waves flushing through Japanese land serves as a reminder that despite what we build on the land, what we create in laboratories, and what endlessly-economically funded innovations we create, there is little we can do in the way of protecting against natural disasters.

This type of scenario is even more impactful living in Istanbul. It's no secret that the bi-continental city lies on insecure lands. In addition to straddling "one of the most active seismic fault lines on the globe," Istanbul as a city has much less wealth per-capita than similarly imperiled areas like San Francisco, Los Angeles, or much of Japan. Further, because of the massive (est. 15 million) and growing population in the city, construction is largely unregulated and the number of homeless people continues to grow. What's more, many of the aged buildings in the city (some dating back to the 15th Century) haven't been supplemented with any earthquake resiliency materials.

As I walk through my neighborhood, I sense the importance of taking in the city as much as possible. There is never a guarantee when it comes to natural disasters. A city or region can create risk-assessment and management plans, but no amount of planning can prevent the devastation that comes with such powerful destruction.

Istanbul, I love you today, and hope that if you can't fully withstand Mother Nature, you can showcase and subsequently increase your resiliency. Maşallah...

For further reading on Istanbul's impending earthquake:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2006/dec/09/turkey.naturaldisasters

into the fire and rain

This winter has surprised me. First, it was timid and every bit an afterthought. As of late, however, it's been hard to leave the flat for fear that my glove, scarf, vest, coat combo won't keep me warm enough. I'm used to the cold - I grew up mostly in Michigan where my memories of waiting for the school bus are filled with building snowmen and igloos. Then I spent two years in New Hampshire where it makes much more sense to invest in a good pair of cross country skis than snow tires.

I'm used to this stuff. But here...it's different. The cold is damp and makes you feel like you're bones were put in the freezer and then given back to you with a pat on the back and a 'Good luck getting warmer!' The nearly constant rain/mist doesn't help with this either. This is a winter I wasn't prepared for, but I'm dealing with it the best I can.

Typical winter day in Taksim

Wet. Cold.

Something crazy happened just today, though. I woke up early to get a run in before the track started to fill with soccer and ultimate frisbee players (not joking), and noticed that the sidewalk beneath my feet was starting to dry. It wasn't raining. Somewhere around mile 4, I felt the sun start to come out. That was it. The rainy cold days that seemed so monotonously unending lately suddenly stopped just like that. My roommates and I decided to take advantage of this upswing and walked through Bebek. The district along the Bosphorus is always beautiful, but it seems to have something more when the sun is out. Inshallah, this is the start of a trend.

Must be nice getting a dry nap for a change.

Local fishing boat.

Korean freighter.

Along the sahil in Bebek.

i know it's hard

Semesters always seem to bleed into each other, despite the registrar-chiseled start and end dates. Nevermind my trip(s) back to America, this first week of classes feels a lot like a continuation of the last fifteen. Beyond the basics (registration, classes, syllabi), there are the new students to enjoy. I, for one, have three new exchange student roommates (strangely all from New York. Our Internet network is called NewYorkGiants. Don't judge). With new students, there's excitement in the city, interest in the culture, and willingness to try new things. It's been refreshing for me, to say the least.

Somehow, between these bleeding semesters, I snuck Ayasofya and Dolmabahce Palace into my schedule. Beautiful sites are even more beautiful when there aren't heaps of tourists crowding them. Dolmabahce is ornate and delicate and immense. Perfect for any sultan.

Different than Dolmabahce, Ayasofya moves you. When you walk in, your  breath can't help but escape you. Beyond being monumentally sized, the church-turned-mosque-turned-museum is painstakingly beautiful. Despite the wear and tear from history, the spirit of this bastion of religious worship shines through, perhaps as powerful as it was in the beginning. Needless to say, a place that warrants a second visit, in the least.

So, as a new semester begins, I'm trying to move into it as if it's my first: with excitement and an open heart. I know it's hard to forget the experiences and memories made during the last five months, but I know there are more to be had. I just need to keep reminding myself of that...

see me through

The end of January is quickly approaching and the month has been a tough one. Watching your friends slowly leave never gets easy. Hopefully, though, this means that I'll have more postcards to send to more places. That can't be a bad thing.

North Campus during finals week(s).

"Burn to Dance." When living in Superdorm, this is synonymous with "Welcome Home."

The last two I watched leave. Tough.

After I finished my finals, I moved into a new apartment. It's in a different part of town and I feel as if I stick out that much more here. Rumeli Hisar is the new hood and I'm getting used to it as quickly as possible.

New digs

New view

Same tchotchkes

new year; old tower

The inception of 2011 has come and past and I've already written 2010 as the date four times since. These changes always take time...

Like Christmas, a small group of friends and I gathered to celebrate the holiday. Unlike Christmas, though, it actually felt like a holiday. The city was a place of excitement and people were in the streets to welcome something new.

Watching fireworks over the Bosphorus. Photo by Hajera Azam.

As New Year's Eve has come and past, so too, does the semester. We've just begun finals and the realization that the end of the semester is near has pushed a lot of people to make the effort to check those final things off the 'things to see in Istanbul' checklist. Despite being here for another semester, I've been more than happy to go along for the ride.

Last week, a friend and I made the unexpectedly cold (the weather has just recently started feeling wintry) trip to Kiz Kulesi. The tower, located in the middle of the Bosphorus, comes with many legends. Prohibited love or snake bites - the reality is that the tower is beautiful and apparently the en vogue place to get engaged (the friend I went with said she knew two couples who had gotten engaged there).

This place knows romance ambiance.

The top of the tower is small with a few tables and a bar.

Christmas or New Year's tree?

Looking toward Asia.

Dolmabahce Mosque on the ferry ride back to Europe.

christmas in harlem (istanbul)

This past weekend was Christmas. In a country where less than one percent of the population celebrates the holiday, it passed as just another day. A few friends and I did our best to commemorate the holiday, though. Church service, brunch, family puzzles....typical things.

Lights in Taksim Square on Christmas Eve

Violinist on Istiklal Caddesi on Christmas Eve

Saint Anthony of Padua on Christmas Eve

60-piece Christmas puzzle: 2 YTL. Finishing in under 5 minutes: priceless. Photo by Kim Didra.

This time away from 'home' has made me realize two things: holidays are, at the root, derived from something specific (usually not gift-getting); and home is where the heart is (I am aware of the cheesiness here). With those things in mind, the passage of another holiday away from home was not depressing or sad, but a good opportunity to reevaluate where I am and where I'm headed. Mutlu Noeller...

planning an unplanned day

I woke up last Saturday with a loose plan. I was to meet some people in Taksim and check out some stuff still on the "Things to see while you're studying in Istanbul" list.

"Do you want to check out Pera Palace Hotel? It's where Agatha Christie stayed," said a trusty companion.
"Sure, why not?" I responded.

The hotel's history was shrouded in it's new modern veneer, but you could tell it had stories. A bellhop gave us a quick tour guided by the few English sentences he could muster.

The hotel was just a brief stop on our way to the Pera Museum. Russian art from the 18th and 19th Centuries was on display and it was the type of stuff I remember seeing in my history books in high school. This stuff was mind blowing. Emotionally-moving, evocative, explicit - like all the feelings you felt when your first dog died. It was serious.

Needless to say, we spent a bit more time there than we had planned for. We rushed to the Military Museum. Unfortunately, we got there as the place was closing up. We were given a few moments inside before the lights began turning off, and from the looks of the place, a return would definitely be justified. By the time we were leaving, the sun was retiring and we decided it was a good time for a beverage break. You ever heard of sahlep? You should really look into. It's like warm milk, but good, and sweet, but not too sweet, and filling, but not too filling...Anyways, it's good. Try it. Seated, we were able to loosely plan the rest of our unplanned evening.

"Are you interested in seeing Whirling Dervishes?" a trusty companion asked.
"Sure, why not?" I responded.

Phones began to fly and numerous numbers were dialed. We were in. We began the trek to Hodjapasha, an old hamam converted to a cultural center. Our seats were in the front (which made our slightly late arrival that much more embarrassing) and the view was amazing. Five men gone from this world into another and expressing it through their bodies. It was entrancing to say the least. When the show was over, we retreated to the lobby to come back down to Earth.

"Are you interested in seeing traditional Turkish folk dances?" a trusty companion asked.
"Sure, why not?" I responded.

Thirty minutes later we were back in the converted hamam watching Turks dressed in region-historical-tradition-specific garb dance in ways that made us (maybe I should just speak for myself) want to get up there with them.

It was an amazingly planned, unplanned day. If you find yourself in Istanbul with some trusty companions, I would urge you to just say "Sure, why not?"

holiday season. really?

It's that time of year. But you wouldn't know it if you looked out my window. Istanbul has been warmer than I ever anticipated, and to be quite honest with you, I'm not too stoked about it. Fall is about a chill in the air, leaves falling, hot soups, and other tangential autumnal things. What is going on outside my window is entirely not fall. Let me give you the rundown.

Football: Fall is about college football. Specifically Big 10 or SEC (let's be real, the others don't matter). You've spent the end of summer watching SportsCenter and catching preseason games in preparation to spend every Saturday during the fall watching your team's potential manifested on the field.

In Turkey, though, not much football watching is going on (unless we're talking about soccer, or futbol, not American football, what?). At any rate, my relationship with the Spartans and D'antonio has been suffering because of the distance between us - that and my lack of tailgating, which no doubt adds to a team's ability on the field.

Goooo GREEN!

Autumnal Gastronomy: Tell me one thing: what screams 'fall' more than a hot beverage? During (at least) three months of the year, it's guaranteed that you can find me walking the streets with one of the following glued to my paw: peppermint tea, pumpkin spiced lattee, hot cocoa. There's nothing that can make your day better. Except, perhaps, a hot meal for those days when you weren't able to find your mug before you left the house and have now been cold all day because of it (it happens more often than you think, what of it?). Tell me a tuna melt doesn't sound appetizing? Eh? What about some squash? Maybe some steaming sweet potatoes? That's right. Salivate.

I'm in Istanbul. It hasn't been cold enough to wear a jacket most days, let alone warrant wrapping my knobby fingers around a piping hot drink.

Obviously pumpkin spice.

General Holiday Sentiment: The holidays are coming (Thanksgiving may have already passed, but I'm still dreaming about it) and they should be all that's on your mind. Holidays are a break from the regular, whether that be good or bad is irrelevant, but they're a break, nonetheless. I'm always for some distraction to pull me from reality.

Did I mention that Turkey's not America and also an Islamic country? So...no Thanksgiving. Those Christmas tree decals in your neighbor's window? Ya, also not there.

Small trees in unexpected places. Surprise!

...and life goes on

Almost two weeks have passed since the bombing in Taksim Square. I went back to the scene, almost exactly a week after the attack and noticed something strange: life goes on. It was 9:45 in the morning and people were opening their shops, drinking their cay and generally going about their business as usual. I kept looking for that person who would be anxiously looking around, attempting to spot the next suicide bomber, but couldn't find him anywhere. This made me wonder, why do we get over such devastating events so quickly? Thirty two people were injured that morning of October 31, 2010 but it goes without saying that hundreds if not thousands of people's security was seriously threatened. So, how do we let mere days pass before we return to 'normal' status? Have we all become too jaded to let devastating events wear on our consciousnesses?

I lived in a small town called Edmond in Oklahoma when in 1995, Timothy McVeigh left a bomb in front of the Alfred P. Murray Federal Building in downtown Oklahoma City. I was in the third grade that morning and my class was in the library when we heard the sonic boom. The fear on my peers' faces was compounded by the sheer uncertainty on the adults' faces. It didn't take long for us to find out what had happened and after then, it took even shorter for us to realize that this was a serious event. Schools and businesses were closed for days after the attack and years later, after my family had moved out of Edmond to another state entirely, I still remembered that feeling of fear and sadness I felt that morning.

Then Columbine happened. Then 911 happened. Then Virginia Tech. Now Taksim Square. I can't fail to acknowledge that as each event passes, it takes me less and less time to pick up the pieces and continue on with my life as usual. Perhaps as violence permeates the areas once considered 'safe' (a daycare in the Federal Building, a high school, an office building, a college classroom) I've begun to approach my life differently. If there are no 'safe' places in society any longer, what's the point of being surprised when bad things happen?

We have entered a new metaphysical modernity where acceptance is quickly merging with expectancy. There's just one question that begs to be answered: Is this a good thing?

Taksim Square on most days

Taksim Square October 31, 2010

Taksim Square October 31, 2010

an open letter

Dear Kripoe,

Your work intrigues me. I'll admit, at first I overlooked it. The simplicity of your design isn't shocking. So I kept walking by. What's another fist on the wall? But the same simplicity made me realize that you're onto something big. Your work is recognizable. You've become legend in your own right. You own the streets in Eminonu and Karakoy. It looks like the area around the Galata Tower is yours, too. I appreciate your art, I do. I just have one question: what does it mean?

Sincerely yours,
Cait