**Continued from last post**

Quick re-cap: changed continents, was kidnapped and taken on a whirlwind car ride, and crashed a ten year old’s birthday party. Everyone with me? Good :)

Ok, setting: beautiful home on the outskirts of Istanbul. Birthday party (though there were only like 5 kids and about 40 adults (if we count as adults…which is debatable). Omid and the other professor Jim Morris arrive and so does the guest of honor, Cemalnur Sargut (I misheard yesterday – C pronounced like J). At first glance, she looked like a first grade teacher at Halloween - long bright flowy orange skirt, long bright flowy orange jacket thingy, with black shirt and huge orange and black beads. She was old, but despite appearing as a frail, old woman, she seemed to radiate energy.

It was amazing. She was very nice and approachable, but the deference the entire household showed to her was fascinating. While seated at the table, everyone, even the party hosts, all sat oriented to her, as did everyone standing around her. The amount of respect this woman commanded was tangible. She then took us upstairs and we all sat in the living room so we could ask her questions. But first off, she blessed a couple who had just gotten engaged and there were tears and many cameras. We then asked her questions about life and other things and listened to the stories she told (which I won’t repeat here, but if you’re interested, remind me of the Two Walls story or the Man and Wife metaphor – which are the only two I can remember unfortunately).

Afterwards, we have cake (delicious and filled with whole bananas – I got a picture), and then we get to listen to a Sufi concert. Basically we all sat in a circle and everyone at the party sang traditional Sufi music while a small drum was played (I got videos too but I haven’t watched them to see how they turned out). And then finally, several hours later, we all parted ways (I got a hug from Cemalnur!). The ride back is uneventful. Translation: I conked out. 

Oh, one last note about the birthday party. Despite being raised in completely different cultures, kids are the exact same - still act the same way, joke the same way, and torture pets the same way. This poor cat was dragged, dropped, thrown on a trampoline, and [unsuccessfully] tossed into the swimming pool. Most well-behaved cat I have ever seen in my life.

So after enjoying lovely fish sandwiches sold right off the boats at the docks, we head to a carpet shop that is owned/operated by friends of Omid’s. Along the way, we discover that the anniversary of the conquest of Istanbul by the Ottomans is on my birthday (May 29^th, 1453 – the conquering, not my birthday. I’d be looking pretty good for 557 years, if I do say so myself).

We enter the carpet shop, which is this charming room with all walls piled high with folded carpets. We are immediately greeted by Adem (whom Omid refers to as his Turkish brother) and Adem immediately offers us giant pillows to sit on. He then, in line with typical Turkish hospitality, offers us all apple tea (which is AMAZING) and fresh fruit. The funny thing is, he has all these giant platters of fresh fruit already prepared (and all the best fruit is in season – making it all the more delicious). Oh and TOTALLY AWESOME SUPER COOL thing about Adem. He speaks six (I think?) languages: Kurdish, Turkish, English, Spanish, French, and Portuguese? Not bad for a man with a high school education. I’m so immensely jealous. He apparently has just self-studied these languages so he can speak to all the different tourists who come to Istanbul. So totally awesome.

He then begins to teach us about the different types of carpets and kilims. We learn how they are made, the difference in quality, the designs produced by different regions, the price based on age/material/pattern difficultly, and lets us see all these amazing carpets. Henry and Linda, one of the older couples in our group, are interested in buying a carpet for their daughter and the lesson eventually morphs into Linda Buys a Carpet, a very entertaining event I assure you.

I, too, saw a few beautiful ones, briefly contemplated getting one, checked my bank account, and realized it would be either a carpet or a plane ticket home. If only they were magic carpets… I also winced every time I had to cross the room – which is completely silly. If you are going to pay that much for a carpet, it better hold up if someone walks on it. Though if you are ever in the market for a carpet, I do highly recommend them! Quite gorgeous.  Several hours later, Omid ducks out to head to the evening prayer at the Sultanahmed and he invites a few of us to go with him, beginning the Next Big Adventure.

Kat, Tushar, Nermeen, Stephen and I all return to the Blue Mosque with Omid. After removing shoes and covering our hair, we go sit in front of one of the large pillars. The ambiance of this mosque has completely changed. Gone all the flocks of tourists gawking, pointing, and snapping photos (yes, I was one of them. I do an open-mouth fish impression quite well, thank you). Instead, this huge structure is filled with this serene nobleness and it’s beautiful. The evening chant for prayer begins to be projected over the loud speakers throughout the city, and people then start to file in the mosque, men in the front, women in the back. We, as tourists, were of course not allowed to be there. Heh heh large pillars can be quite handy. The whole prayer ritual was quite beautiful and I left the mosque feeling quite at peace afterwards.   

Outside, Omid goes to talk to the imam and introduces us to him. As we are talking (aka Omid and the imam speaking Turkish, while I smile, nod, and try and project intelligent vibes), a couple comes up to our gathering and the conversation goes something like this: [translated of course]

Couple: “Can we get inside the mosque?”

Imam: “No, it’s closed for the night”

Couple: “But we want to go pray”

Imam: “Why didn’t you come during the call for prayer?”

Couple: “ehh, we’re Palestinian”

Hahaha uhhh what? And apparently, the logic didn’t confuse only me. Ah well. A few more pictures, a stop for ice cream, and we turn in for the night, ending an eventful 16 hour day.

Oh a note about the pictures I promised you: the camera died. Finding new batteries.