Sensing Life- Turkey (2)

The average day traveling in any country is filled with not only excitement and adventure, but an opportunity to revive senses that may have become accustomed to a relatively small level of arousal. A basal level of stimulation is experienced from a day to day basis, and for me the only way to heighten not only the frequency, but the amplitude of this stimulation is to travel. Traveling has never disappointed me when it comes to exposing all five of my senses (sound, smell, touch, taste, and sight) to novel stimulation. And for this reason, I crave travel.

1. SOUND

Sound is the sense that offers an opportunity to communicate in a verbal language, to sing in a native tongue, to express your love, and to even express anger. I consider the power of sound endless, and this is evident when you consider the fact that there are wavelengths that not even the human ear can absorb and interpret. There are variations in interpretations and there a preferences for specific sounds. Music and voice are beautiful gifts and for this reason I will begin with sound.

My journey through Istanbul has been a whirlwind exposure to culture galore. As I wander in the streets, sometimes with purpose and sometimes to purposely become lost (and of course found again), I listen to the people who surround me. I hear languages of all sorts, and many of the languages are the same but have different accents, or the gender offers a distinguishing factor. No one sounds the same. The language spoken here in Turkey is simply called Turkish and it is a rapid and flowing language. I have met many Turks on this incredible adventure, who thankfully speak English, and we have shared conversations galore. One convo occurred with the older gentleman who owns our hostel. This owner's name is Uner... Uner the owner :) One day over a freshly prepared and homemade meal in our hostel, we talked about the world. It was a beautiful conversation and one thing I will always remember is when he shared the following phrase, "You should be as comfortable in the world as you are in your own home." I will forever embrace these simple words. So in the end it was sound that has offered me an opportunity to learn from this country and its people.

2. SMELL

The sense of smell is incredibly intricate, so much so that it is only superficially studied in my medical school classes. I have a different smell attached to each country that I have visited and Turkey will be no different. Istanbul's Spice Bazaar, which is very long stretches of back-to-back stands in an indoor market is by far one of the most aromatic places I have ever visited. Each stand is slightly unique in it's display, character, and size; but, all have more or less the same contents. Upon entry, Des and I quickly wandered into a shop maintained by a son and his non-English-speaking father. The young man had quite the personality as he quickly spoke and smoothly dipped his great big spoons into tubs of spices and tea and gently held them up to our nose. One word: Heavenly. The Love Tea was beautifully colored with bits of roses, dried fruits, and leaves; the pomegranate tea was deeply red and smelled like pomegranate but because it was concentrated, the smell was overwhelmingly beautiful. There were spices for meat, chicken, lamb and fish dishes. They ranged in color from dark bluish greens to the brightest of orange. And each had a smell that could attract a crowd from miles away. My nose was happy to smell teas of orange, apple, and even rose. I smelled until my nose was no longer capable of differentiating one smell from the next. This happened to be quite a few Liras (Turkish currency) and hours later.

3. SIGHT

Sight is the most guaranteed sense to be stimulated. Sight is a glorious sense that allows us to see the wonders of the world, the most vibrant colors, the most beautiful faces, and the vastness of landscapes. Walking down the street is certain to entertain your sense of sight, and one of my favorite sights in Turkey was Topkapi Palace. This enormous structure, which defies architectural standards and houses some of the largest jewels in the world is a place of splendid-ness. The outside of the palace, on the day we visited, was surrounded by a thin fog that made it appear very Harry-Potter-esque. There were large trees and flowers encircling the perimeter and a huge gate in which you entered the building. Through the doors was a large courtyard where we noticed a unique tree which had split in the middle offering a clear view to the other side. We quickly stood in line to see the most beautiful place in the palace- the harim. The harim is the part of the palace where the sultan keeps his concubines- the women who he essentially uses to bear many many children. The harim was composed of tile upon tile, and as my friend Desirae explained, "There is detail on the detail on the detail." Each tile is hand-painted and they are arranged in nearly symmetrical patterns that display tulip flowers and other designs. The colors are vibrant, but I can't help but think of when the palace was being constructed and they were freshly painted. The entire length of the wall and ceilings are covered with tile and the floor is uniquely designed using small and various colors of river rock. The varying colored stones swirl about to create unique patterns and they offer an uneven trail to march upon. Upon entering each room, there is a small sign explaining the purpose of the room. Many of the rooms were merely for chit chat and entertaining and they were adorned with enormous fire places that all had unique shapes that domed as they neared the top of the room. They were large enough to fit both Des and myself. Many rooms had shelves that were carved into the walls and the doors of the palace were always intricately decorated with beautiful knobs. and knockers One of the rooms housed boxes large enough to display one woman, and this is where the sultan kept his favorite concubines. The room where the sultan slept had two larger-than-king-sized beds facing one another with tall golden posts at each corner. There were windows at the head of each one. I can't begin to fathom what this place looked like centuries ago when it was fully decorated with drapes and pillows and illuminated by candlelight. Following our journey through the harim, we entered the exhibits that lined the walls of the courtyard. Each one offered a new room of treasures and exposure to some of the world's oldest and most precious relics. My eyes were in awe of some of the things they saw. The first one we unsuspectingly entered was home to the Rod of Prophet Moses--- yes you read that correctly--- the grand rod that separated the Red Sea, that lead millions to freedom, and that allowed God to save his people. In a large inconspicuous glass case, a simple rod with only one small twig sticking out near the top proudly sat at about four feet high. It was darkly colored and lighter areas of tree marbeled it's way throughout the rod giving it a two tone appearance. I had to get back in line to see it again.... and again. I am blessed to have laid eyes on such simple beauty. While chatting with one of the guards, we asked why it is not highly advertised that such a precious gift is displayed here. He explained to us how Christians are practically enraged that Turkey has this relic and for this reason refuses to allow pictures to be taken of it and even souvenir museum books to print its picture. We also saw the bones of John the Baptist, the beard of the Prophet Muhammed, elegantly decorated turbans and wedding dress, diamond and ruby studded swords, boxes, thrones, etc. I think this place is worth billions of dollars.

4. TASTE

Taste has got to be one of the most pleasing senses to indulge. I am often guilty of over stimulating my sense of taste. This country has tested my limits of self control. Turkish delights are one of the little treasures that Turkey possess. They range in color and ingredients, but they are more or less gummy/jelly rolls filled with nuts and covered in powdered sugar or more nuts. My favorite is a beautiful pistachio one that has a hint of honey and is dipped in powdered sugar. I can eat them by the hand fulls. There are many Turkish Delight stores that line the streets and I often meander through just to get the free samples (sin verguenza). I can't seem to get enough of these little tastes of heaven, as they eagerly tempt me from their display in every other window case. There are a variety of other foods that send my taste buds shouting praises through the streets. I adore the taste of lamb in the many dishes that offer it (particularly the testi dish was cooked in a clay pot and cracked open before your eyes) and I fall head over heels for the juices filled with fresh squeezed oranges and pomegranates.

5. TOUCH

The fifth and final sense is touch- One that is scientifically proven to be a necessary sense for human development. In fact, neglected children who lack human contact fail to thrive and can even die if interaction does not ensue quickly. Touch is important for everything- it allows us to maintain our balance, differentiate between a silk scarf and a cotton one, it offers the ability to show love and compassion. Turkey is famous for its Turkish bath which exemplifies touch and its healing and soothing powers. The baths were surprisingly much much much different than what I expected, for those of you who I tried to explain them to scratch what I said because I was very wrong, but the surprise while at first very shocking was by far one of my favorite events in Turkey. It is a story of a bath without a bath. Upon entering a regular door in the string of restaurants, stores, etc, we encountered your typical counter where we were able to look at the various services offered. Desirae and I decided to get nearly everything. After all, when do you get to indulge in a Turkish bath... not often. So we were herded up a winding staircase and given a small plaid red towel where we were asked to undress and put on some black undies that were provided. We obliged and then were sent back down the staircase and into a room where we waited to be selected by one of the Turkish women. The women were wearing the same issued black underwear and that's it and many of them had breasts to their belly button. They walk around shamelessly and sweep/carry out all their tasks as if they're not completely naked. Then one of the women chooses you and escorts you into a circular room with a large circular stone in the middle. Then.... the woman, without warning, ripped my towel off and pointed at the stone for me to lie down with the ten or so women already relaxing. So there I was half naked, as my friend was similarly being escorted into the room, and so I lied face down on this very warm circular, grey stone. The warmth was thankfully comforting, and so I sat there staring at my friend with a very surprised look and we just burst out in laughter. When we realized our feet were hanging over the edge, we decided to scoot up and did so as little inch-worms trying to cover all of our bare surfaces. It was probably one of the most comical sights in the entire room. We couldn't believe this was actually happening. Here we were thousands of miles from home, in a traditional Turkish bath, surrounded by more than half naked women we didn't even know... and then it got worse. The older robust lady who had earlier escorted me into the room began pulling on my ankles, so I was laying down near the edge of the stone and she began to scrub me with a large rough scrubber in every crevice, and I mean every crevice. She washed my hair and covered my entire body in bubbles. She took time to rub my tired muscles and rinse me not-so-gently from head to toe. She dumped buckets of warm water over me and I could feel my body becoming softer with each scrub.... The soap was endless. She used a pillow case to squeeze soap suds all over my body and all the while I laid there on this round warm stone without ever saying a word. Following this I was once again escorted to a hot tub type of contraption in a very old stone room that I believe was built in the 1600s. Touch, a sense necessary for life, was now making every part of my body feel more alive and fresh. I was for the first time in my entire life comfortable with nudity and oddly okay that a woman was washing me while her breasts were swinging all about. This was not the end. From here I entered a room in which women were lined up preparing to do a full body massage and a head massage, which was where we had paid extra. So for over two hours, I was completely pampered in an odd Turkish sort of way, rather than in a typical spa where there's complete privacy and the massage is carefully draped and your therapists are completely clothed. It was an experience of a lifetime and I never want to bathe myself again.

So in the end, Turkey did not fail to stimulate every sense from all angles into the deepest corners of my soul. Turkey did not let me down and it will continue to hold a very special place in my heart.

A woman with an unknown identity,
I have been called: a Spaniard, Italian, Venezulan, Syrian, Arabic and even Turkish, but never American.