July 26 and 27 - Trip to Konya
Traveling throughout Turkey it is impossible to fail to notice that the evil eye, in various forms, is present (watching you?) wherever you go. It appears on beads, pendants, jewelry, little sculptures and even embedded in the pavement. I was even given an evil eye upon departure from our hotel in Diyarbakir. I was told by the hotel clerk that one can never be too careful. I scoffed, but I kept the evil eye I was given, and was told by many that belief in the evil eye remains widespread throughout Turkey. I was told that certain people carry within them a malevolent force. (We have all encountered such people, at work, in our social groups and in some cases even in our extended families.) This force can be transmitted to others through their eyes. Anything that has the image of the evil eye on it, the nazar boncuk, can reflect the evil eye look back on the originator.
So we left Cappadocia on a high note. Had gotten a good night's sleep, enjoyed a good breakfast, read the Sunday NY Times out on the roof top while sipping cold beverages, and had driven out of town without getting lost, notwithstanding a detour. We were making good progress on our way to Konya, after stopping for gasoline and a pee break -- when, just west of Aksaray I noticed that the car was losing power. Same symptoms as occurred in Georgia, bucking on the engine, no electrical power and power loss. I hoped to nurse it to the next gasoline station, but no such luck. It died just past kilometer marker 50-14/357.
What to do? We were on a major highway and, notwithstanding our upraised hood, no one was stopping. I called the roadside assistance we got with our insurance in France, but, not surprisingly, the menu listings were in French and the automated voice spoke too fast and the language too complex for our still-terrible French. I then decided to call our hotel in Konya for assistance and here is where we made the evil eye blink. The owner/manager who answered the phone spoke excellent English (as well as Turkish, Kurdish and German). After explaining the problem and determining my location, he promised to contact a mechanic and get back to us. Within 15 minutes he called back and said that a mechanic was on the way out, ON A Sunday! The mechanic came as promised, with two assistants. They inserted a temporary super battery and we followed them back to Aksaray, where they unlocked the garage shop. They brought in an electrician and another mechanic and while we guzzled cold Fanta, they repaired the alternator, which had not been sending electricity to the battery thus draining the latter and causing the failure. Upon a bill of 250 lira [we paid in euros and got change in lira, thus qualifying this as a true, international monetary transaction], we were on our way after only about a 2.5-hour delay.
Our GPS got us to the back of the hotel, and after I ran around to the front the owner greeted us warmly with cold drinks and ice cream. We thanked him repeatedly for his assistance and joked about the evil eye. He has been running his small hotel with his German wife for 5 years. It is a 200+ year old house that he restored with his brother, a rug merchant with a store down the street, and he complained that he worked 24 hours a day and was not getting ahead. He felt that the government was taking actions that discouraged tourism in the area. We spoke with many who were adamant that the Turkish government was helping ISIS and that local people knew that ISIS supporters were operating in Turkey with impunity. More than a few thought that Erdogan was solely interested in getting rid of Syria"s Assad and that the Turkish government was doing the bidding of the US government, and that it was being financed by the Saudis.
We took a walk around Konya. It is a large city with over a million residents, but a very conservative place. It was founded over 4000 years ago by the Hittites, but got its character from its position as the capital of the Seljuk Sultanate for about 200 years. Lots of mosques and minarets and the vast majority of the women we saw were dressed in very traditional Muslim garb. The prominance of the shapeless overcoats worn by the women was pronounced.
We walked to a restaurant across town and had a nice outdoor dinner capped off by the usual Turkish tea. At another table sat a young woman in a bridal gown and presumably her groom, with another couple. Our waiter explained that it was a custom for the betrothed to have a wedding dinner before the ceremony with their "teachers," (said with a knowing, mischievous smile). We had some ice cream on the way back where we also picked up some baclava, all for 13 lira. The latter was better than the former.
After a pretty good breakfast, we went to the Mevlana Museum the next morning. This is the former lodge of the whirling dervishes. Celaleddin Rumi, under the Seljuk Sultanate of Rum (not the drinking kind) became a great mystic philosopher and he became know as the Mevlana (Our Guide) to his followers. He was born in what is now Afghanistan in the 13th century, but ultimately fled to Konya to escape the Mongols. He became a great teacher, but his many students allegedly became jealous of his close relationship with one of his disciples. The other disciples put the favored disciple to death and Rumi withdrew from the world, leaving his wife and children. After he died on December 17th 1273, a date known as his wedding night with Allah, his son organized his followers into a brotherhood called the whirling dervishes, or Mevlevi. They became very influential under the Ottomans, but Ataturk banned them as an obstacle to Turkish advancement. Several lodges survived as religious fraternities.
The Mevlevi worship ceremony, sema, is a ritual dance accompanied by chants that represents a union with God. More on the ceremony in a later blog.
The museum's entrance is marked by the words, "those who enter here incomplete will come out perfect." Mevlana's tomb is here along with other dervish notables, all under gold cloth and huge turbans. The more wraps, the greater spiritual importance.
We wrapped up by noon and started the long journey to Ephesus, accompamied by 3 liters of cold water provided by our hotel hosts.
Traveling throughout Turkey it is impossible to fail to notice that the evil eye, in various forms, is present (watching you?) wherever you go. It appears on beads, pendants, jewelry, little sculptures and even embedded in the pavement. I was even given an evil eye upon departure from our hotel in Diyarbakir. I was told by the hotel clerk that one can never be too careful. I scoffed, but I kept the evil eye I was given, and was told by many that belief in the evil eye remains widespread throughout Turkey. I was told that certain people carry within them a malevolent force. (We have all encountered such people, at work, in our social groups and in some cases even in our extended families.) This force can be transmitted to others through their eyes. Anything that has the image of the evil eye on it, the nazar boncuk, can reflect the evil eye look back on the originator.
So we left Cappadocia on a high note. Had gotten a good night's sleep, enjoyed a good breakfast, read the Sunday NY Times out on the roof top while sipping cold beverages, and had driven out of town without getting lost, notwithstanding a detour. We were making good progress on our way to Konya, after stopping for gasoline and a pee break -- when, just west of Aksaray I noticed that the car was losing power. Same symptoms as occurred in Georgia, bucking on the engine, no electrical power and power loss. I hoped to nurse it to the next gasoline station, but no such luck. It died just past kilometer marker 50-14/357.
What to do? We were on a major highway and, notwithstanding our upraised hood, no one was stopping. I called the roadside assistance we got with our insurance in France, but, not surprisingly, the menu listings were in French and the automated voice spoke too fast and the language too complex for our still-terrible French. I then decided to call our hotel in Konya for assistance and here is where we made the evil eye blink. The owner/manager who answered the phone spoke excellent English (as well as Turkish, Kurdish and German). After explaining the problem and determining my location, he promised to contact a mechanic and get back to us. Within 15 minutes he called back and said that a mechanic was on the way out, ON A Sunday! The mechanic came as promised, with two assistants. They inserted a temporary super battery and we followed them back to Aksaray, where they unlocked the garage shop. They brought in an electrician and another mechanic and while we guzzled cold Fanta, they repaired the alternator, which had not been sending electricity to the battery thus draining the latter and causing the failure. Upon a bill of 250 lira [we paid in euros and got change in lira, thus qualifying this as a true, international monetary transaction], we were on our way after only about a 2.5-hour delay.
Our GPS got us to the back of the hotel, and after I ran around to the front the owner greeted us warmly with cold drinks and ice cream. We thanked him repeatedly for his assistance and joked about the evil eye. He has been running his small hotel with his German wife for 5 years. It is a 200+ year old house that he restored with his brother, a rug merchant with a store down the street, and he complained that he worked 24 hours a day and was not getting ahead. He felt that the government was taking actions that discouraged tourism in the area. We spoke with many who were adamant that the Turkish government was helping ISIS and that local people knew that ISIS supporters were operating in Turkey with impunity. More than a few thought that Erdogan was solely interested in getting rid of Syria"s Assad and that the Turkish government was doing the bidding of the US government, and that it was being financed by the Saudis.
We took a walk around Konya. It is a large city with over a million residents, but a very conservative place. It was founded over 4000 years ago by the Hittites, but got its character from its position as the capital of the Seljuk Sultanate for about 200 years. Lots of mosques and minarets and the vast majority of the women we saw were dressed in very traditional Muslim garb. The prominance of the shapeless overcoats worn by the women was pronounced.
We walked to a restaurant across town and had a nice outdoor dinner capped off by the usual Turkish tea. At another table sat a young woman in a bridal gown and presumably her groom, with another couple. Our waiter explained that it was a custom for the betrothed to have a wedding dinner before the ceremony with their "teachers," (said with a knowing, mischievous smile). We had some ice cream on the way back where we also picked up some baclava, all for 13 lira. The latter was better than the former.
After a pretty good breakfast, we went to the Mevlana Museum the next morning. This is the former lodge of the whirling dervishes. Celaleddin Rumi, under the Seljuk Sultanate of Rum (not the drinking kind) became a great mystic philosopher and he became know as the Mevlana (Our Guide) to his followers. He was born in what is now Afghanistan in the 13th century, but ultimately fled to Konya to escape the Mongols. He became a great teacher, but his many students allegedly became jealous of his close relationship with one of his disciples. The other disciples put the favored disciple to death and Rumi withdrew from the world, leaving his wife and children. After he died on December 17th 1273, a date known as his wedding night with Allah, his son organized his followers into a brotherhood called the whirling dervishes, or Mevlevi. They became very influential under the Ottomans, but Ataturk banned them as an obstacle to Turkish advancement. Several lodges survived as religious fraternities.
The Mevlevi worship ceremony, sema, is a ritual dance accompanied by chants that represents a union with God. More on the ceremony in a later blog.
The museum's entrance is marked by the words, "those who enter here incomplete will come out perfect." Mevlana's tomb is here along with other dervish notables, all under gold cloth and huge turbans. The more wraps, the greater spiritual importance.
We wrapped up by noon and started the long journey to Ephesus, accompamied by 3 liters of cold water provided by our hotel hosts.
The story of the evil eye is most interesting; glad you kept the one you were given. You've been very lucky to meet such generous people in Turkey who've done a lot to help you out of some tight corners. Glad this car incident was so easily remedied. I look forward to reading more about the Mevlevi later. By the way, are you taking notes on your experiences along the way? Your level of description of the details of your experiences makes for very good reading.
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