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b_justb
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Rolltide
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LOL… ok.
Well, this took place around 1992, and I was taking a Trafalgar bus tour of Turkey. It was a great tour, starting in Istanbul, going to Troy, then Ephesus, over to Cappadocia, up to Ankara, through Bursa, and back to Istanbul. Now, around the middle of our tour, we were at one of our furthest points east, near the city of Konya. Konya is a really interesting city for a number of reasons. It’s considered to be the most conservative of all large Turkish cities. This was a world away from Istanbul. Far more women wearing hijabs, and far more mosques per square mile. Also, the whole region was much poorer. We even saw a number of nomads living on the outskirts of the city, and some of them invited us in to their tent. We got to enjoy some tea with them, and watched their little girls work on making a Turkish carpet. Konya is also famous for being the old capital of the Seljuk Turkish empire, so there were very interesting ruins near the city too, including a Caravanserai (weighstation and inn) that was a rest stop on the old Silk Road. It’s also famous as the home of the Whirling Dervishes. We toured their home mosque, which is also an important Islamic shrine as it contains the remains of their founder, the mystic Mevlana. I was struck by how surreal the experience was, since it was a lot like going to a Catholic Cathedral. People venerating the body of Mevlana, relics of the prophet Muhammad on display, a copy of an 8th century Qu’ran in a showcase, it was very similar to what you’d see our own faith do.
So, it was after leaving Konya the next morning that we travelled slighly further east on our way to Cappadocia to see an underground city where 7th century Christians hid out to escape persecution (with stunning underground chapels!). On the way there, we noticed a traffic jam in the middle of the road, in the middle of a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. We couldn’t pass through it, and so the bus pulled over to see if we could find a way around. In the meantime, the tour leader allowed us to get off to use the restroom at a local gas station. All of a sudden, a huge parade comes down the road from the other direction waving Turkish and (the banned) Kurdish national flag, with men chanting and piling out of jeeps and vans. The little town square was engulfed with people and about 500 people basically started chanting in Turkish. The only thing I really made out was PKK, which of course, is the Kurdish group fighting for independence in the east and recognized as a terrorist group. I pretty much figured I’d better get back on the bus at that point and our tour leader agreed, although he assured us that they weren’t interested in us. If anything, they welcomed us, because we’d bring attention to and learn about their cause. So, I wasn’t really afraid for my life or anything like that, but it was a very uncomfortable situation. Lots of flags and banners and yelling, but no weapons or anything like that. Our bus driver hurried us out of there, not out of fear from the PKK as much as what might happen if the Turkish authorities showed up. They would likely have used force to suppress the rally. We did eventually see photos of the rally (which was denounced) in the paper the next day, although Turkish authorities never did intervene.
Geez, next you’ll be wanting me to tell you about the time I was nearly killed by a flying tire in the middle of the Sahara Desert! (Strange, but true!!!)
Well, this took place around 1992, and I was taking a Trafalgar bus tour of Turkey. It was a great tour, starting in Istanbul, going to Troy, then Ephesus, over to Cappadocia, up to Ankara, through Bursa, and back to Istanbul. Now, around the middle of our tour, we were at one of our furthest points east, near the city of Konya. Konya is a really interesting city for a number of reasons. It’s considered to be the most conservative of all large Turkish cities. This was a world away from Istanbul. Far more women wearing hijabs, and far more mosques per square mile. Also, the whole region was much poorer. We even saw a number of nomads living on the outskirts of the city, and some of them invited us in to their tent. We got to enjoy some tea with them, and watched their little girls work on making a Turkish carpet. Konya is also famous for being the old capital of the Seljuk Turkish empire, so there were very interesting ruins near the city too, including a Caravanserai (weighstation and inn) that was a rest stop on the old Silk Road. It’s also famous as the home of the Whirling Dervishes. We toured their home mosque, which is also an important Islamic shrine as it contains the remains of their founder, the mystic Mevlana. I was struck by how surreal the experience was, since it was a lot like going to a Catholic Cathedral. People venerating the body of Mevlana, relics of the prophet Muhammad on display, a copy of an 8th century Qu’ran in a showcase, it was very similar to what you’d see our own faith do.
So, it was after leaving Konya the next morning that we travelled slighly further east on our way to Cappadocia to see an underground city where 7th century Christians hid out to escape persecution (with stunning underground chapels!). On the way there, we noticed a traffic jam in the middle of the road, in the middle of a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. We couldn’t pass through it, and so the bus pulled over to see if we could find a way around. In the meantime, the tour leader allowed us to get off to use the restroom at a local gas station. All of a sudden, a huge parade comes down the road from the other direction waving Turkish and (the banned) Kurdish national flag, with men chanting and piling out of jeeps and vans. The little town square was engulfed with people and about 500 people basically started chanting in Turkish. The only thing I really made out was PKK, which of course, is the Kurdish group fighting for independence in the east and recognized as a terrorist group. I pretty much figured I’d better get back on the bus at that point and our tour leader agreed, although he assured us that they weren’t interested in us. If anything, they welcomed us, because we’d bring attention to and learn about their cause. So, I wasn’t really afraid for my life or anything like that, but it was a very uncomfortable situation. Lots of flags and banners and yelling, but no weapons or anything like that. Our bus driver hurried us out of there, not out of fear from the PKK as much as what might happen if the Turkish authorities showed up. They would likely have used force to suppress the rally. We did eventually see photos of the rally (which was denounced) in the paper the next day, although Turkish authorities never did intervene.
Geez, next you’ll be wanting me to tell you about the time I was nearly killed by a flying tire in the middle of the Sahara Desert! (Strange, but true!!!)
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