Cappadoccia

Cappadoccia is a veritable grab bag of Turkish delight. Rock-hewn churches built and decorated by the eleventh century Christians that you enter in complete darkness; the caravanserais; the rug merchants; the rock formations that astound and delight you. Cappadoccia has been called a fairy land of surprises and it really isn't just tourist talk. It still has these tiny villages in a storybook landscape that wind with the rivers among the rocks and valleys and seem to center around getting your product, rugs, vegetables, crafts, you just name it! to market. See for yourself. Details incoming. Stay tuned.


JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

Konya

Konya is the center of orthodoxy for the House of Islam in Turkey. Remembering that Turkey has been a secular state since 1923 by initiative of Attaturk, Konya has maintained more of the cultural and religious facets of the House of Islam undoubtedly due to Mevlana, properly known as Mevlana Jalaladdin Rumi. This God-loving spiritual master in love with divine love, a Sufi and a poet, identified himself with Konya, where he lived almost uninterrupted from his arrival in Konya in 1228 from Afghanistan. Mevlana maintains a serious love affair with the Turkish people still, due from my observation to credos such as this:

Come, whoever you may be,
Even if you may be
An infidel, a pagan, or a fire-
worshipper, come.
Ours is not a brotherhood of despair.
Even if you have broken
Your vows of repentance a hundred
times, come.

So his spirituality, as his poetry, is this beautiful, lyrical, enchanting, seductive take on life and all its problems that is not scolding nor daunting. In fact, it is laced and saturated with love. Love beyond Love. Think: the Puritans of Massachusetts and then do a 180. And in Konya is Mevlana's tomb, making it a pilgrimage site for the faithful worldwide; I know I went there in search of him.

By the time I had journeyed by car from Istanbul to Konya, I had observed enough of the architecture to form this opinion: Islamic art and architecture is the most beautiful in the world. It meanders, it flows, it frames; it define, articulates a flora and fauna that meets the senses in a delicious collision such as sweetness on the tongue early in the morning. It is a statement and an expression that is heard no where else in the world. It is engineered second to none. And it is is unmistakably, irrevocably feminine. But it was not until I got to Konya that I began to understand the entire essence of Islamic art and architecture. It is undeniably erotic. Go back and look at the pictures. Keep looking. So I finally begin to understand the Great White Father's reaction to this land of the soft mounds and penes of the mosques: they were and are damned afraid for their women. These Muslims are sexy, sexy, sexy.

Mevlana's tomb is spectacular. The Muslims bury each other on their sides, facing Mecca, or east. So the profile of the tomb is unlike that of a tomb in the western world. It is slim and tall, maybe the shape of a short upright piano, as they rest on their hip and shoulder. At one end of the tomb, rising from the head would be a projection, say in the shape of a very, very large thumb, I bet you get my drift, where of course, the turban rests. Or if he was a Dervish, his cylindrical hat. Draped over the tomb is an exquisite rug or silken tapestry, re embroidered many times over in decorative motifs that for me, are largely indescribable, they are so beautiful. Probably something in tulips, artichokes, carnations or the Tree of Life. Mevlana's tomb itself sits exactly under the Green Tomb, pictured here as the turquoise turret.

The Mevlana Museum is deeply, deeply moving; a place so holy that the Muslims always wash in the courtyard before they enter. It is beautiful, it is disturbing, it is unapologetic and the love overwhelms and whisks you away. And as you look down, you are riding on one of those gorgeous carpets high, high, high above the clouds.

Travel in its highest form should delight, fulfill, stimulate and educate you. Some days it humbles you and gently shows you how ignorant you really are. But if you are really lucky, and ride with the blessings, you get to go back home and think about it all, again and again. Ours is not a brotherhood of despair.

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

In no particular context, here are some of my early favorites:



JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

Well, I made it back to the New York trailhead, but in the utter lunacy of exiting the country on election day, I neglected to leave a cache of fresh clothes and oranges here. Doggies. So here I sit in clothes even the orthodox Jews would shun, waiting for the car to take me to LaGuardia and the west, where the comfort and reassurance of home await me.

How was Turkey? Turkey was ... surprising. I did not anticipate the seduction, the titillation, the romance of Turkey. I did not see the discovery, the exploration, the exhilaration coming ever. I just didn't expect to fall head over heads in love with Turkey. But I did. So first things first. Introductions. Greeks Schmeeks! Romans Lowmans! These are the people that made the Hittites first utter the immortal, 'There goes the neighborhood'. People have been making community in Turkey for 9000 years and astonishingly, there are plenty of remnants of these communities for pilgrims like me to witness yet. The Greeks and the Romans came much, much later. Much later.

There is no such thing as Turkish coffee. It's a method. Istanbul is not unlike being in San Francisco. Attaturk's Mausoleum is far, far more beautiful than Red Square. The harbor of Troy exists no longer. They have Starbuck's but no laundry service in 5 star hotels. And best of all? VERY BEST OF ALL?

No freaking snakes.

More as it comes.


JBelle
On Assignment
New York, New York

They day began wıth thick coffee and thick yogurt. Not such a bad combination particularly wıth some brioche thrown in. The hotel is quıte like the neighborhood hotels of Paris. well appointed. small. clean. absolutely perfect.

We dashed out of here fırst thıng after breakfast and romped all over European and Asıan Istanbul seeıng the Topaki Palace and the astonıshıng cısterns and Hagia Sophia. I got some good shots everywhere today so Iam frustrated at not havıng the capacity to post them here as ı cant decıde where to begın. Except to say that I have always wanted to come here to the cıty of the Byzantınes that Constantine then claimed for Chrıstendom that the Muslims reclaımed for theır own. And that it is as splendid as I knew it would be. And that the thrill at walkıng the streets and bazaars that Paul Constantıne Jason and countless other martyrs and Muslıms walked ıs real and palpable. I joın a fraternıty of hıstorys men and women who journeyed long and hard to get here and whose accounts of those journeys are read stıll by countless school chılren and students of the world. Thıs mornıng I am humble at yesterdays experıences yet eager and greedy for more. It was such a splendıd day ın Istanbul.

It has been my experıence prevıously that Islamıc men are accommodatıng and respectful of vısıtors ın theır country partıcularly women. They do not leer nor flırt they are not calculatıng nor shrewd ın transactıons nor ınteractıon and ın general are hospıtable and welcomıng rather than ıntımıdatıng. They are frıendly and courteous ın all matters. I am here wıth great confıdence. I knelt on the carpet ın my bare feet at the Blue Mosque today and said many many Haıl Marys because I knew that Muslıms welcome pılgrıms and prayer.

So today we go to Troy. Troy! If Mr Nelson of sophomore Latın could see me now....


JBelle
On Assıgnment
Istanbul Turkey

Awoke in darkness to the wail of the minaret, calling the faithful to their day. We walked last night but the interest in fair skinned women strolling and chatting in the evening was too great so we didn´t stay out long. The streets were dark with men selling designer fragrance and argyle sweaters spread out on blankets along the dusty sidewalks. Dinner was chicken at the hotel with strong vodka and even stronger, sour lemon. So we await the revelation of the Turks and the ancient Byzantium today.

I just can´t wait.


JBelle
On Assignment
Istanbul, Turkey

Where I Live

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA

My Neighborhood

JBelle
Bellemaison
The 'Kan EWA

My blog buddy over at A Spit In The Ocean is putting out some pictures that deeply touch me. The Fool is not your calibre of photographer such as Joe McNally or Laurie Excell but these days, I like his shots better. He picked up his household earlier this summer and moved it 600 miles south and now wanders around his new neighborhood and explores and blogs, explores and blogs. Today and tomorrow, I will post some shots of my neighborhood, trying to find my new eye. Big shout out to The Fool.

JBelle

Bellemaison

The 'Kan EWA