CARAVANSERAI, SILK ROAD, WHIRLING DERVISHES

We enter Sultanhani Caravanserai through this beautiful carved marble entrance which faces East. This caravanserai was built in 1229. After a fire, it was restored and extended in 1278 and became the biggest  and best Caravanserai in Turkey.

Traveling the Silk Road, parts of it now preserved  in Turkey,  because of its historical importance, Usla knew I was excited about "...walking in the steps of Marco Polo."  He'd point to a caravanserai from a distance. "There's one!" I could never spot them because I was trying to see a huge desert area surrounded by trees, a source of water and many bedouin tents set up to show what it must have been like to travel across huge stretches of hot sand, and take refuge with camels laden with goods in a safe spot for the night. Instead we entered a huge courtyard, with winter rooms on the left and summer rooms on the right.

To the right of the entrance, are summer kiosks where the merchant put forth his goods. The arches to the right of the kiosks is a Turkish bath.  First, servants would come and unload the merchandise while the travelers bathed. The horses or camels were taken to a stable in the back of the building. To the immediate left of the entrance is a stairway leading to the top of the wall where guards patrolled. And huge rooms where the servants and travelers slept and had their meals and displayed their goods during winter months.

This painting shows what it was like, guards on the rim, travelers seeking refuge, not only merchants. The guards could signal with smoke signals from one caravanserai to another in the distance to know who was coming so they didn't let in robbers who would lay in wait for a caravan and try to relieve them of their goods.

In the center is a small Mosque.

You entered the Mosque by this set of stairs, identical to the stairway leading up to the top of the walls.

The stables, a dark and foreboding place, lit by torch light and now electrified for tourists.

The rooms are now quite barren. Black smoked walls identify the kitchen area.

The cold marble does not exactly suggest comfort station to me. I think I'd prefer a tent.  I didn't see the W.C.  But, according to others it is now a modern toilet unlike what it must have been with stone seats and a runnel. In my mind, I see Marco Polo, in awe of his surroundings as he traveled to China, and all over Asia, an epic 24 year journey, and back to Italy with Noodles, rugs, silks, porcelain, pearls, jade, jewels but most of all, a detailed history of the marvels of the world he visited.

We returned for dinner at our new hotel in Cappadocia, the Kapadokya Lykia Lodge. I swore I wasn't going to picture another buffet, they are all so splendid, but this one outdid  the others. This is one wing of the salad bar. Behind you can see a long dessert bar. Thirty three different desserts and Owen managed seven of them before his dinner.
We enjoyed multiple choices from huge chafing dishes, or a vegetarian bar, and a breakfast bar, omelets made to order, etc. available all hours. Overwhelming choices.  But, enough.

Our evening optional tour brought us to another, smaller caravanserai to see the whirling dervishes. To the left is  gift shop. The place had beautiful paintings of caravanas.

You can see how much smaller this courtyard is from the big one we saw. It has a fountain in the middle.

Inside a staging area surrounded on three sides by seating. The musicians enter first, you see them at the back of the room. The dervishes are dressed in black like the guide. They allow no pictures during their ritual. After the ritual, they perform for a few minutes for the camera. No words are spoken. No announcements made. This is how they start, heads bowed, arms crossed.

They begin circling with eyes open.

 They begin circling with their eyes closed.

They whirl with arms in an upright position, never letting them down for about 13 minutes. They return to rest position for five minutes and then begin again in a trance like state for another 13 minutes. Then they return to rest state.

Then they silently file out of the staging area the same way they entered. No words are spoken, no eye contact made. They do not discuss their ritual and what it means to them. Norman saw a Dervish Ritual in Iran and said they came out with swords clashing and whirling. It was a "show". This ritual is said to be the real thing, very pure form, nothing flashy. I was astounded that anyone can keep their arms in the air, and whirl dizzingly with eyes closed for 13 mintues, without falling over or resting their arms. A truly amazing feat. Very subdued, but amazing. I can't hold my arms up in the air for two minutes. I was totally impressed.

NORTH TO KONYA.

We said goodbye to our home hosts after a delicious breakfast. (My first without cucumbers and olives.)  Hatice makes rugs, (her sweater), knitted slippers; she crochets around scarves and other items which we could choose to buy. She is only 37, her daughter 16 years old, her husband is 46.  We also got the recipe for the walnut-tomato chili dish everyone liked, that is, we got the basic ingredients. It goes like this: You brown Turkish tomato paste in a pan with olive oil. (Turkish tomato paste is a home made ingredient made from dried tomatos to which onions, and red sweet peppers and seasonings are added). Then you add ground walnuts, chilis, garlic, cumin, parsley and oregano. Serve on flat, crisp bread.  It would be fun to experiment.

On the road, the weather is still spattering rain. We slow for wild goats crossing the highway.

We have lunch before stopping in the city of Konya to visit the Mevlana Museum which is a huge square commemorating  a mystical Sufi, Mevlana Celaleddin Rumi, a 13th  century poet who preached tolerance, forgiveness and enlightenment. All pretty good stuff. But his sect is known as the Whirling Dervishes because they perform an ecstatic ritual dance. Followers have been outlawed and kicked out of Turkey long ago, but his Monastery is here, his tomb.  The Dervishes moved to Pakistan, Syria and Iran. Dedicated believers still perform here, underground. One group performs openly at a caravanserai, which we will see later, and the government has chosen to ignore it.

These happy women allowed me to take their picture. They are on holiday.

In fact, Usla warned us that more Turkish tourists will be found here than outsiders. He explained that this is like Mecca for followers and some small village visitors will visit only once in their lifetime and they get very excited. Above, a Turkish tour group is all women.

Inside the walled the courtyard is a "garden" of marble tombstones. The square is divided by the Turquoise Mosque, where we put plastic slippers over our shoes before we could enter. On the right, are rooms with artifacts behind glass where we had to practically fight our way in to the windows to see the exhibits.

 

The stones are beautiful. These are the graves of the Abbots who taught in the Monastery. To be a Dervish, followers had to fast for 40 days. They could have one olive the first day, two olives the 2nd day, 3 olives the third day, and so on. They received 40 olives the last day. With all the water they could drink, of course. Then they rose to an ecstatic state and if they passed this test, they could train to the ritual dance.

The Turquoise Mosque was filled with great beauty, many treasures, huge and small Korans, illustrated manuscripts, gorgeous gold implements, tools and costumes. No pictures allowed. We saw lines of women praying. Above is the dome of Rumi's tomb room.  Some of the rooms had no pictures allowed but the guards watched while people with phones took many photos and some with flash cameras, also ignored. But, not in the Turquoise Mosque.

Rumi's beautiful marble headstone.

Lesser illustrated manuscripts in side-rooms, taken through glass cases in poor light.

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For those who've never seen a performance, this mock up is very realistic in dress,the hats, the instruments.

As we prepared to leave the compound, two Turkish students approached Owen and asked if they could interview him on camera for their school project. He consented and answered their questions. They spoke very good English.

Back in the bus, headed for a Caravanserai. We are on the Silk Road, in the footsteps of Marco Polo and I find that exciting.

MOVIES, BOOKS AND MAN'S INHUMANITY TO MAN

Goodbye Monroe after 17 days. Bronco repairs delayed us 3 days, but the RV lifestyle accommodates delay. A slower pace, a lovely river, gave me permission to tackle Gary Jennings thousand page, (small print) book, The Journeyer which is historical fiction based on Marco Polo's discoveries, cultures along the silk road; the conquered territories of Genghis Kahn; Tibet, China, India, Persia, Arab cultures and Europe are all accounted for. He delves into the sexual practices of different cultures and tribes; their dress, weapons, transportation, religions, traditions, buildings, animal husbandry, food, medical practices, slavery and cruelty. Man's inhumanity to man never fails to astound me. Jennings goes into detail about torture practices among the various peoples Marco Polo encounters. (Shudder) Its a worthy read despite my revulsion. We then watched Goya's Ghost, which deals with the Inquisition. Again, man's inhumanity to man. The movie is also a compelling historical statement. Whenever we complain about government, it pays to bring to mind how much worse life was in ancient times. (The photo below is from Goya's Ghost.)
On the personal side, I was able to swim freely since my shoulder surgery/therapy, and took advantage of the pool. I so wanted to get on that lazy river, but didn't trust my strength to the current. I even got Jim in the pool.