After paying 15euro for my visa, i line up with everyone else, waiting for the customs inspection. It is cold and rainy, but fortunately we are mostly under a tin roof, so by stamping the feet once in a while, and perceiving warmth from the multitude of fires lit on the end of tobacco sticks, the 40 minute wait slowly whiles away. An old lady tries to walk by the young customs men, and they get ugly with her. She turns back, unintentionally banging one hard with her umbrella – ha! When she tires of waiting again in a few minutes, they let her proceed to the other side. That is one thing i despise – no set rules to follow. Because of this, the ones who push and shove and scream the loudest know that eventually they will get what they want, so the whole country becomes that way – yucko. After the head inspector returns from the bus with 2 bottles of found vodka, the young men speed search everybody’s stuff, going thru my suitcase in less than 5 seconds.
That border is the first time in my life when i have physically stepped across 2 time zones. It was around 6:30 when i finally got past the Georgian border house, but the next clock i saw on the Turkish immigration wall showed 4:30. It seemed very strange to already be so dark, and only 4:30pm. The scenes in the towns as we pass in the dark was more back to what i can call “normal” – 5-8 story apt. buildings, with lit up stores selling all manner of goods, with street lights etc. In the 3 countries i just came from, each capital city is like that, but nothing approaching that kind of lifestyle exists in the countryside. We roll on.
Taking a swig of cough syrup helps overcome my natural tendencies not to be able to sleep while moving, and i pass the nite somewhat fitfully, but wondering why it was a bit cold. Waking up to a mostly barren, snowy, rolling hill sight in the morning taught me why. It was quite beautiful in a stark way, with dwellings few and far between, and when you do see them, they are all huddled together like sheep huddling around each other for warmth. We stop at a restaurant around 8am, after i have already eaten my dried fruit and bread. I learned on the bus trip coming over that food at bus stops is very expensive, and this one looks to be no different. The toilets are nicely appointed, causing me to not even mind much paying to use them, as they have paper, soap, running water, etc. I decide to take off my long underwear, which proves to be very wise, as we will descend down from the hills, arriving in the traffic jams of Istanbul in a little over 2 hours. Crossing a long bridge which may be the “Bosporus Bridge”, i see a road sign saying “Welcome to Europe”. First time i’ve ever seen that written anywhere, and it makes me feel good 🙂
I have no idea where to go when i leave the bus terminal, and just start walking up the street, back to the large artery we were on a few minutes earlier. Asking for directions doesn’t lead to an English response, so i continue on my way. From a restaurant door a 19y.o. face calls out to me in English, and he helps point me to the road i am already heading for, but sadly tells me he has no beans. I’m wanting Fah-sool-yeh (white beans in tomato sauce – think Heinz), but instead get some bread and tahini and orange at a market. Tahini is very cheap here, about the same price as peanut butter in most places. While i’m eating with the pigeons, i ask someone where the foreigners usually go for a cheap hotel, and am given the name of an area, and pointed to the tram to take me there. I have checked up on the hostel situation in Istanbul before coming, but have not jotted down any names. When getting off, i ask one place, and after hearing the high price, decide to find an internet cafe. It seems a bit strange to look on the internet for a place within a 3 minute walk, but i’m very, very glad for the ability to find that desired information. I find the place i was looking for quickly – Cordial Hotel – and yes, they do have dormitory beds available for 8euro.
On my way up to my room in this well-lit, nicely painted hotel, the big, shaggy golden retriever lying across his master’s open office door attracts my attention. The hotel owner inside is a friendly man, until the discussion turns to Jesus Christ. Well, the seed was planted, and may the Holy Spirit make it grow is my prayer. I crash on my bed for an hour, enjoying the opportunity to be horizontal for a while. But why come and just spend all the time in bed? Get a move on! This area – Sultan Ahmanet – is THE center of exploring the old city. From here it is an easy walk to the Blue Mosque, St. Sophia’s, the old castle, the Roman ruins, etc. I don’t walk in the Blue Mosque, but even from the outside, it is quite impressive. Reading the plaque on the wall of the Sultan who had it built in the early 1600s reveals that on the consecration day they sacrificed many sheep and goats.
Some famous Sultan’s grave is nearby, and it is just a 1 minute walk over to see the old Roman column that marked where all the roads in the Byzantine empire started, which is right next to some old Roman bath house that is very expensive to enter. St. Sophia’s is just across the street, and i look at the tourists entering. Many of them look Japanese, and yes, i hear that familiar sound again 🙂 While standing outside looking at the building, a native guy comes up to me and tries to sell some trinkets. He is friendly, but when i tell him i lived 15 years in Japan, he says “Japanese are crazy”. He continues with “They don’t know how to bargain. When i say the amount, they just pay it, or don’t buy at all”. Yes sir, i know, Japanese and Americans are perhaps the worst bargainers in the world. You see, you would find out if you went to these countries, that prices are already attached to most everything, so you don’t have to spend half of your shopping time trying to get a lower price, only to feel cheated when you find out from someone else that they got it lower. Fair for all, the same for all, it saves a lot of time, money, and trouble!
I don’t go in St. Sophia’s either as it costs a fair amount, so instead walk around it to the old castle around back. It is a nice stroll, and there is one excellent view of the Bosporus straits from the parking lot inside. Going back out, and down the hill towards the sea leads one past lots of little carpet, touristry shops. The day is mostly over, so there are few touts to bother your walk. Just under the hill from the Blue Mosque is a very interesting area where you can walk past many high-class carpet and jewellry shops. Then it finishes, and you can wander aimlessly in a really delightful area, one of the most interesting architectually for me that i have seen anywhere in the world. The houses are wooden, probably built around 100-120 years ago. Many of them are in desperate need of repair, but quite a few have been refurbished, keeping the beautiful, wooden facade intact. It is not much of a touristry area, with little grocers being patronized with mothers in flip-flops, and little kids playing in the streets. Hardly a car passes the narrow streets. I’ve forgotten the official name of this area – perhaps “Suleiyaman”, but it is just below the Blue Mosque, between it and the sea, and coming back (west) a little ways. The next morning finds me in this same area, and while taking a pic, a man from a carpet shop speaks nicely to me, and tells me that he just had some Japanese customers there this morning, and they were happy to look at the sea from the top of his shop. He tells me that there is a program to train the shop-keepers in Japanese, as they purchase quite a bit.
The old Roman ruins seem to be an embarrassment to the current city of Istanbul. They are not prominently displayed, and, in fact, mostly covered up. There is one section tho, very near the Blue Mosque, called the “Hippodrome” i think, and there is a large promenade with 4 columns or so from Roman times. It shocks me a bit to see that all of these objects are very famous, having seen them in textbooks. Let’s see, Hadrian’s column, the obelisk from Egypt, the Serpentine etc. Wow! It is interesting too that all the ones walking around here look like foreigners, with no Turkish speakers within earshot. The cats wandering around too look hungrily at my breakfast in the park, so i leave a small dollop of yogurt for them, which they lick once or twice, but don’t seem much interested in. In Istanbul there are usually lots of pigeons around, but none here – ha!
The hotel front desk man and several other tourist-related shopkeepers tell me there is no bus to Sabiha airport, that i have to take a taxi (which is very expensive). The official tourist information center person tells me i can take a tram to a Funicular to a bus to the bus to the airport, and after huffing and puffing and pulling my two-good wheeled suitcase and interneting an hour and eating in the warm sunshine, i finally reach the airport around 4:30pm. The man in the post office says he is open to 6, so i hurriedly write a postcard to a friend in Japan while sitting in the waiting area near the check-in counters. When i go back to the post office at 5:30, it is closed. Probably he misspoke, meaning “5” when he said “6”. Oh well, such is life. I wait several hours, finally boarding my Air Arabia flight to Sharjah a few minutes late, around 2:30am.
Turkey, i hope you open up to the gospel someday. Your people are mostly friendly, if a bit arrogant, but you have a rich history, one that shows that Christianity basically got its first roots on your soil. Come back to Jesus Christ.
NOTE: Post written December 22, 2006