Exploring Mystical Turkey

Article in this week's Sun Community Newspapers
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Exploring Mystical Turkey
BY NAZBANOO PAHLAVI


At 6 a.m. I awoke to the passionate call of a man’s voice, filled with a soft urgency, transmitted by electronic megaphone from somewhere outside my hotel window. As a first-time visitor to Turkey and the Middle East, this traditional call to prayer was my initiation into the Muslim world. A fitting prelude, I thought, for my pilgrimage in honor of Jalaluddin Rumi, the mystical Sufi poet whose 800th birthday was the purpose of my recent trip through the country.

Sufism is the mystical arm of Islam practiced by Muslims and non-Muslims alike. Local Angelenos might be familiar with the Sufi practices of the whirling dervishes, a group of whom have performed at UCLA, and whose methodical turning in their long white robes and tall brown hats represents a means of getting closer to the Divine. UNESCO officially designated 2007 as the year of Rumi and celebrations were held in the city of Konya in south-central Turkey, the poet’s place of birth and burial. The city was brimming with scores of pilgrims from as close as neighboring Iran to as far as China and the United States.

As I traveled with an Istanbul-based Sufi music group, my journey was shaped around all things mystical. I felt this in every area from the tombs of well-known Sufi sheiks (teachers) to the Rumi-inspired knick-knacks in the bazaar shops. More than anything, I witnessed it when our bus broke down on the first day of the bayram holidays that mark the end of the Ramadan fasting period. A humble family in the countryside welcomed us into their modest home, offered us tea and fresh goat’s milk, and exemplified the hospitality and warmth I often witnessed across the region.

Istanbul itself is an enigmatic city and the only one of its size to straddle two continents – Europe to the east and Asia to the west. I saw this melding of east and west in the modern, retail-filled streets of the cosmopolitan Taksim area that teemed with youths eager for the nightlife. I saw it too at the striking Hagia Sophia, a house of both Muslim and Christian history, which welcomed tourists daily and beckoned seagulls every night to circle its grandly lit dome.

Before setting off on my trip, I had heard a lot of good things from friends who had been to Turkey. I discovered this has less to do with place and more to do with people. One member of the music group I traveled with – a German native who married the group’s founder – said something I found particularly fitting. She told me that the people of the Occident think with their heads, while those of the Middle East think with their hearts. Whether suitable or not in politics, it proved a pleasure in travel.

Coming Home

There is so much to tell about my trip to Turkey, but that will have to wait. I am currently readjusting to a tiring delay in London Heathrow and life back with my own toilet and living quarters. I actually miss sharing a room with 3-4 other women, although the personal bathroom is something of a blessing, considering how holes in the ground can be sanitary as easily as they can be filthy. I do miss the comraderie from our travels from Istanbul south to Konya, east to Cappadocia, and then coming full circle through Bursa and back to Istanbul. I need time to decompress and purge all the experiences and information from my trip. What I can say for now, is that Turkey is far from the political upheaval represented in the media. The Turkey I saw was about warmth and hospitality and some of the nicest people I've encountered in any travel experience. I hope anything I write can do them justice.

Back in Los Angeles, I have found it more and more difficult to readjust to normal life after each international travel. Coming back from France and Germany was difficult in September, and so too is this coming home. Times like these, I look to routines that comforted me in the past - gym and exercise classes, writing sessions and ruminations at the local cafe, walks with friends (who I'm having a hard time getting in touch with since my cell phone is held hostage in my lost luggage) and zoning out occasionally in front of re-runs. In some ways, I miss the routines of Turkey. Waking up to the call to prayer at 6AM, rushing for the bathroom with a throng of other women, speaking in 3 different languages with travellers from all over Europe and the U.S. Hopefully, I will experience more travelling routines in the new year and will learn to get used to the often unsatisfying comforts of home.

Happy new year to all my blog readers. I hope 2008 will be full of travels, and new routines in which you never thought you would find comfort. Keep in touch.

Konya or Bust

UNESCO has desıgnated 2007 as the offıcal year of Rumi, known by the name Mowlana or Mevlana by hıs dıscıples. This year marks hıs 800th bırthday. I decided to follow a group of pılgrıms to Konya, the bırthplace of Mowlana, for thıs historic milestone. I am on the 8th day of my journey ın Turkey which started from Istanbul and ends there wıth stops along the way ın Ankara, Konya, Capadocıa, Bursa and smaller towns ın between. At the moment, I am ın a Mesnevy (order of the belıef system accordıng to Rumı) hostel less than 5 mıles away from hıs tomb.

I am here wıth a Sufi musıc troupe based ın Istanbul and led by two Sheık brothers, neıther of whom speak Englısh, so the language of communıcatıon with us is often French. In our group, we have about 8 people from the US and a smorgasbord of Germans, Austrians, Spaniards and local Turks we seem to have collected along the way. That ıs one thıng I did not realize before signing on - Our pilgrimage is linked to the tour schedule of the Tumata music group. This slightly unwelcome role as Sufi music groupie has even led us to a shopping mall event where the music collective played for mall visitors. If the US had the Tiffany mall tour, then Turkey has the Sufi mall tour - Similar only with funnier hats and lots and lots of whirling. Rumi followers turn - presumably to get closer to God. It ıs a dızzying and confusing vision to digest especially when it is done haphazardly at the mall with all sorts of particıpants.

Today we witnessed a professıonal whirling performance by Konya's dervish held at the impressive cultural center built for this year's celebrations. It was a hıghly structured event that shed at least a little bıt of light for me - an unacquainted groupie pılgrim. Konya is the birthplace of Rumi and scholars and pılgrims alike from all walks of life are gathered here. It ıs an ınteresting gathering. Even so. my aching wheezing chest and early morning wake up calls (wıth the prayer on megaphone) have had me starting to long for the comforts of home and the familiar. Onward to Capadocia ın the morning.