Thursday, June 3rd
Greetings, earthlings. I am now officially two days behind, but c’est la vie, no? Luckily I have made outlines of the past days so as to make sure not to miss a thing :).
So, let’s see if we can set the scene. We are still in Konya, protests and demonstrations (about Israel attacking the Turkish aid ships) are occurring around the country, Ireland is sending new aid ships daring Israel to attack them, and I am still staying up to ungodly hours. Scene set and ready to go.
Pre-Lunch Part 1 (Madrasa, Mosque, old lumpy wall)
Today we were fortunate enough to have the morning free and to ourselves. Naturally, I spent my morning exploring the amazing wonders of a soft, clean bed. You know, really making sure I get the chance to experience and learn about the true Turkish experience. Unfortunate side effect: I miss breakfast. Fortunate outcome: friends look out for me and artfully arrange fruit and bread for me upon my awakening. Aww.
We check out of our hotel by noon. Or alledgedly by noon. Turkish noon. So like by 12:30. We pile into our bus and take off to kill our last day in Konya. First stop: the Karatay Madrasa, a 13th century university and newly created tile museum. First stop: closed. Fail. We cross the street (dodging crazy car drivers in a typical Frogger fashion – a feat that most would find impossible with 18 people) and stare in wonder at the ancient remnants of the old palace wall (aka a giant mound of weathered bricks).
Using our mosque-dar, we find an older mosque known as Alaadin Mosque, built before they discovered how to creatively use domes to eliminate the supporting columns. The result: a forest of mismatched marble pillars that nevertheless would’ve been an awesome place to play tag. We conveniently arrived right before noon prayer, so we had the opportunity to observe it discretely from a small alcove in the side. Though I must say, it seemed we were providing more entertainment for the locals – there was some noticeable gaping and gawking at this haphazard collection of American tourists who had ventured so far from the beaten path.
After the prayer, we learned the significance of the Virgin Mary in the Islamic context. [Fun fact: Did you know that the Virgin Mary is mentioned 8 times more frequently in the Qur’an than Muhammad himself?] The mosque also gave us free copies of the Qur’an when we left. It reminded me of the free Bibles that evangelicals distribute around campus in the spring.
Pre-Lunch Part 2 (Madrasa, Bus trip)
We return to the Karatay Madrasa, the university-turned-tile-museum I mentioned earlier. Fate has smiled upon us slash the caretaker had returned from lunch and we were finally able to enter. It’s a rather small building designed for the study of hadith and is covered in blue tile. The center of the building contains a pool (sans water at the moment) that lies directly below what was initially an open roof.
Cool story interlude: in the thirteenth century, Shams comes into this room and finds a scholar sitting there meditating on the beauty of the moon as reflected in the pool. Conversation ensues, Shams reacts in a typical drastic matter, shoves the scholar’s head up and chastises him for being lazy and looking at the reflection rather than the real thing. Hmm well the story sounded cooler in person, even if I didn’t quite agree with it.
But as a result of that story, I too tried to reflect in the same manner that the scholar did (though it was daytime – meaning no moon, there was no water in the pool for it to reflect, and the dome had been covered over time – hmmm potential dilemma). Though even without the necessary ingredients, I was still able to get the appropriate feel. That being said, I totally understand why the scholar reflected on the reflection – looking up results in quite a painful neck cramp. So being my usual resourceful (some more honest people might say lazy) self, I found a bench to lay on in comfort to observe this hypothetical moon. This laying actually resulted in an odd observation: there were some randomly painted stars on some of the tile decorations of the important prophets. A mystery….
Afterwards, Anon picks us up in the bus and we journey epically trying to find this apparently awesome restaurant. Many expletives ensue as Anon gets lost and is forced to navigate a giant bus through tiny cobblestone streets.
Shrine to Rumi’s Cook
As this is already a super long post for a day that started at 11:30 am, I will sum up the lunch in one sentence: mediocre-ly good with cool call-to-prayer echoes off the mountain. We then went to visit Atesh Baz Veli’s shrine, aka the shrine for Rumi’s cook. Yes, cook. The only cook shrine that I am aware of. Also, interestingly enough, at someone’s house. So yes, unfortunately we interrupted dinner as a huge hoard of Americans came tramping through their garden. Whoops.
So one of the customs of this shrine is to take some salt from the shrine back home with you. Some eat it, some bottle it up or mix it with existing stores, and some superstitious nineteen year olds subtly throw it over their left shoulder to ward off evil.
Shrine to Rumi’s Friend
Next we visit the grave of Sadr Al-din Qunawi, one of the friends of Rumi. It was a pretty, outdoorsy grave, even if the dude himself was only of mildly interesting status. Halfway through the lecture I freak out silently when I notice water in his grave is bubbling. Slightly fearing that I am experiencing a miraculous religious experience, I step to one side to see a gardener sitting there, watering the flowers. Oh. Well that’s lame. The dude couldn’t even be interesting in death…. Oh! By the way, if I have any Lemony Snicket fans in my audience, I have solved the mystery of Beatrice. Mind blown.
Note: eating fruit off of trees in the streets is generally not a good idea, no matter what the tour guide says. Luckily no lasting damage.
Dinner and Departure
We dine at a pleasant outdoor garden for our last meal. Sorry, last meal in Konya. We then board the bus for the last time – yes, the last time :( – and head off to the airport to catch a domestic flight to Istanbul. We all say good-bye to Adnan, our fearless bus driver, and there is much melancholy. I can’t remember if I mentioned this before, but Adnan, our stoic yet sturdy bus driver, was AWESOME. Plus he gave me a birthday present. Two actually, one being an evil eye pendant, the other … invoking entertainment providing reactions from the recipient.
Once in the airport, we go to check in our bags and get our tickets. Let me give you a rundown of the scene:
Mezut is calling out last names to give out the boarding passes. I am standing there chatting about past flight experiences.
“Fogartie…”
“You know I can’t remember the last time a flight has gone seamlessly. Always seem to run into some travelling difficulties.”
“Minchew…”
“At least we’re not likely to run into the same ticket problems like I had earlier this trip.”
“Stokes…”
“Hey, are these tickets being handed out alphabetically?”
“Haha that would be funny if you didn’t have a ticket!”
“Thompson…”
“No, wait a minute guys. That actually was the last ticket.”
“Ha. Ha. That’s hilarious…oh...wait, really? … ohhh shit.”
[Cue brief and slightly frantic running back and forth between ticket counter and the check in desk as Omid and Mezut search and discover that I have no ticket under my name. The next several minutes are spent trying to secure a boarding pass for me one hour before the plane takes off]
However, just in case anyone is worried, I did manage to get a seat on the plane (next to a crying baby) and therefore return to Istanbul with the rest of the group. Hooray! Btw, the Turks even run their airlines like they do their life…30 minutes behind schedule.
Well, that’s all for today! I could go into more detail about the flight (it was short – I slept) or about the facts I learned while reading my passport (you relinquish your US citizenship if you serve in a foreign state’s military - *cough* Israel? *cough*), but I am tired. Good night all! Sleep well. And eventually I shall get around to next few days’ blogposts so I will be caught up again.
