· We visit the pilgrimmage home of Rumi adherents: the leader Mevlana’s burial place. The rooms are full of tombs and auspicious religious artifacts like pieces of hair, a teapot, shoes, a book. Adherents stand in deep prayer, many in tears. What longing or misery do they bring here? Then a man appears out of the shadows, smoothly beginning a much-rehearsed pitch describing what we are looking at, his chatter oblivious to the weeping couple beside us, the pitch ending with an offer to show us around – for only a very small charge. This too feels Turkish (but perhaps not at all entirely Turkish): this acceptance of turning the most natural, personal or profound things – a waterfall, a sacred burial place, a beach, a filthy public toilet – into a ‘small charge’.
· Down the street from where we stay is another place you can stay … called “Hotel Nil.”
· I stumble upon a renovation site: once an old medresse, another time a courtyard full of tombs. Glorious blue ceramic work remains over the arches. Dusty workers mix mortar, re-wire dark corners. I like the energy here ... and the mix of stacked artefacts, fragments of ancient beauty, and dust. In the midst of all this three or four men, supervisors of some sort in ties and jackets, stand around sipping tea, smoking. One of them is especially interested in historical renovations. He enjoys explaining the project here, my interest in it, and where I've been, and the talk itself. He wants to pick all this up tomorrow: Will you come back. We’ll have çay and talk about these things some more. “These things” were my photos from Golbeki Tepe and eastern Turkey ruins, places he had never been but seemed genuinely interested in. He keeps calling the others in ties: Do you know this place? One fellow is fascinated with a carvd fox-like animal crawling down a piece of Golbeki Tepe stone work: You still find those in the hills there, he tells us. I'm conscious of standing around talking with the men in ties while the men in dust work on ... but, still, I could easily have returned the next day to have tea andlearn more about this project.
· Down the street from where we stay is another place you can stay … called “Hotel Nil.”
· I stumble upon a renovation site: once an old medresse, another time a courtyard full of tombs. Glorious blue ceramic work remains over the arches. Dusty workers mix mortar, re-wire dark corners. I like the energy here ... and the mix of stacked artefacts, fragments of ancient beauty, and dust. In the midst of all this three or four men, supervisors of some sort in ties and jackets, stand around sipping tea, smoking. One of them is especially interested in historical renovations. He enjoys explaining the project here, my interest in it, and where I've been, and the talk itself. He wants to pick all this up tomorrow: Will you come back. We’ll have çay and talk about these things some more. “These things” were my photos from Golbeki Tepe and eastern Turkey ruins, places he had never been but seemed genuinely interested in. He keeps calling the others in ties: Do you know this place? One fellow is fascinated with a carvd fox-like animal crawling down a piece of Golbeki Tepe stone work: You still find those in the hills there, he tells us. I'm conscious of standing around talking with the men in ties while the men in dust work on ... but, still, I could easily have returned the next day to have tea andlearn more about this project.
No comments:
Post a Comment