Paul reaches home

Elapsed time from wake-up call in Istanbul: 28 hours 45 minutes.

THIS IS NOT THE END

After some sleep, more reflections and photos. Even a few
conclusions and plans, insh'a Allah.

The party people hit the streets

On the night before our last night, we went to a trendy section of Istanbul, for stuffed baked potatoes and ice cream, overlooking the Bosphorus. Much tea was consumed. Then, most of the group piled back into the van, and back to the hotel.

A few of us set off with Huseyin, our erstwhile guide and cat-herder-in-chief, on foot. At about 11 pm, we cruised through the back streets of the old city, and off to a little place on the fifth floor of a corner building. It had a rooftop level view of the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sophia, and the waterfront.

This tiny place pioneered a dessert that was something like a cross between vanilla-rice pudding and creme brûlée, made from--of all things--chicken. It was yummy, if a bit wierd.

For reasons nobody could quite explain, it is now popular across Turkey (newspaper article in photo), and made the inventor a lot of money.

What struck me as interesting wasn't the chicken pudding, so much as the whole business of late night carousing in a Muslim country. There we were, bopping around Istanbul, eating ice cream and drinking tea like there was no tomorrow.

The view of seagulls circling in magestic floodlit flocks high above the (enormous) Blue Mosque was other worldly. The ships twinkled on the Bosphorus as we drank tea after tea.

The raucous conviviality was familiar from college days. The utter absence of (trés un-Islamic) intoxicants made it all kind of surreal.

We walked all the way back to the hotel, and I was in bed by 1am, marveling at the incongruity of it all.

Update: The hundreds of snowglobe-like white reflector birds swooping gracefully in the floodlights above the Blue Mosque may have been bats, not seagulls. It's the best theory I've heard yet for what these were. The floodlights only made them look white.

Photo post: shoe shine stand

1) I don't know what the cone-shaped things are.

2) Yes, I know what they look like.

KADIM dialogue center at the Journalists' and Writers' association

A great visit with the center, and a discussion of interfaith efforts
in support of peace, reconcilliation, and justice.

Newspaper

We met with the Editor of Today's Zaman, a widely-read paper that provides comprehensive English-language coverage of events in, around, and related to Turkey.

The Turkish-language edition, Zaman, is one of the oldest and most widely-read papers on Turkey. The English-language edition is relatively new.

Though the Gülen movement per se has no ownership interest in the paper, the Editor described it as a positive force in efforts to advance the development of liberal democracy in the country.

We've been reading the paper pretty regularly on the tour. It seems relatively objective, tending to support the government (prime minister and head of state) position in its dispute with the judiciary over the (governing) Law and Justice Party closure case.

The paper can be found online at http://www.todayszaman.com .

Starting home

More posts to come, as I continue to collect photos, thoughts, and
wireless access points.

Educator

This man has an elementary school education. He moved from the Anatolian interior to Istanbul, where he became a successful entrepreneur, ending up as a manufacturer/exporter of furniture. We had breakfast with him and some people from his Muslim faith community in Nigde, the small town in central Anatolia where he has a summer home and small farm.

So, we have a man with a limited education, and deep roots in the small-town "flyover" region of his country. He's deeply religious. In America, i'd expect someone like him to be the kind of "religious right" guy who's suspicious of or even hostile to people of faiths other than their own.

Some critics of the Gülen movement have charged that its international face is a "false front," all sweet and interfaith, but in the heartland it's a jingoist, Islamist movement, dedicated to throwing back the advances made by the secularist Turkish Republic.

The man in the picture is a follower of Gülen. One day, in (if I recall correctly) the 1970's, he asked Gülen what he could do for the movement. Perhaps build a monument, or endow a mosque? Gülen asked instead that he build five* schools. We saw one of them in Nigde. I complimented our host on his beautiful school. He demurred forcefully. The translated reply was "it's not MY school." I thought for a moment and asked "Mr. Gülen's school, then?" He replied "I just bought the land and building. The school belongs to its faculty, students, and trustees." Gülen's name isn't on the walls. I'm told he doesn't know how many schools his followers operate. They're now on generation two of educating teachers, with graduates of Gülen universities just beginning to serve as teaching assistants (like interns). Many of them will go on to set up Gülen-inspired schools of their own. It's a lot like the Jesuits, who educate kids around the world, except that there doesn't appear to be any "Gülen World Headquarters" like the Vatican in Rome.

This movement is a network, without a headquarters. It's educational efforts are spreading like a virus. The man in the picture isn't a scholar, he's a scrappy business man with a big heart.

Without claiming credit, he's educated a lot of children.

Back to Istanbul

With our flight from Kayseri, we left central Anatolia. The people we met in the smaller towns (like Nigda) would nominally be the least interested in reaching out to Christians and Jews of Muslim people in Turkey. Yet, even the small-town Imam (Muslim clergyman) was very into interfaith outreach. This turns out to be as much as Muslim thing as a Gülen thing, but it's heartwarming nevertheless.

Wi-fi is soooo cool

We're sitting in a cafe, overlooking the Bosphorus, just after the
evening call to prayer from the mosque in the picture. There's music,
there are beautiful colored lights on the boats passing by, ice cream,
and no alcohol. The feeling is kind of "Islamic hip," if ever there
were such a thing.

I have a bunch of things to post from our day, at a local university,
a national newspaper, and the grand bazaar. Normally, I'd want to post
in sequence, but this is just all too cool. Turkish coffee and Wi-fi
(the wireless Internet connection I'm using to send this) are too good
to postpone.

Photo post: Marble painting

It involves floating (I''m guessing) oil paints on the surface of
(presumably) water, dragging needles through the paints, and
transferring the image to paper. The surface tension physics and
(probably) electrostatic chemistry of the pigments, float bath, and
paper will doubtless be fascinating when I look them up.

Photo post: Art teacher at Nigde

The school's art teacher demonstrated a traditional style of painting
they call "marble painting." We each received a framed painting as a
gift.

Photo post: kids at Nigde

Cult of Atatürk

Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, founder of the modern Turkish republic, watches
over the school at Nigde from his (required by law) portrait and
another, more ghostly image.

Hoopla

We arrived at a school in Nigde, a smallish city in central Anatolia.
Parents, students, and staff welcomed us to a dinner, served with much
ceremony. This photo is kind of blurred, but shows the enthusiastic
dance show that the kids offered, amid the speeches by the headmaster,
great food, photo ops, and the beaming smiles of the parents.

The parents included (by all appearances) professionals, ordinary
working folk, observant Muslims (especially women wearing
headscarves), less obviously observant people--all sitting and
celebrating together.

We arrived from Konya an hour late, and these good people waited
patiently, then welcomed us so warmly that I cried a little, just for
a moment.

More soon about our breakfast dialogue the next morning, and the story
of the man who hosted it.

Photo post: Cappadocia panorama

Photo post: "Fairy chimneys" with... ...well, you know...

Photo post: "Fairy chimneys" of Cappadocia

The caves of Cappadocia

The volcanic tuff in this region is relatively soft, so inhabitants,
going back to ancient times, have excavated complex warrens of
dwellings. These were temperature-stable, expandable, and easily
defended. Many were occupied as recently as 1963.

Home stay

Our overnight hosts were the family of Mr. Kuddusi Büyükakkas, who
operates a trucking company (about ten trucks) in Nigde. We (three of
us) were joined by the Art and English teachers from the school for
tea and fellowship. Despite the English teacher's yeoman efforts, the
language barrier was high. Love filled the voids, however, and we
talked on, well past midnight.

Photo post: Ataturk outside the school in Konya

School principal

We visited a private primary school, operated by people associated
with the Gulen movement. The man in the picture is the principal, who
described a program of education that sounded exemplary in every way.

They operate In a way similar to that of the KIPP Academy, where I got
to organize a short course on world religion in Houston. Now, the
school in Konya draws most of its kids from the families of the city's
professional class. There's a teaching hospital near the school, and
lots of the parents are physicians. Still, the school admits a certain
number of scholarship children, and the love, intensity of parental
involvement, and staff dedication is apparent from the program
structure and from the faces of the kids we saw.

In the photo, the principal is holding a paper he carries, that list
the names of all the children in the school.

The Gulen Movement provides guiding philosophical bases, inspires
donations of time, money, land, and the like to open schools around
the world. Yet (so the story goes) the education the deliver is not a
religious one per se. Their curricula are secular, designed according
to local government standards wherever they operate.

I'm a skeptical guy, always curious about the "hidden agenda" behind
anything I see. It's certainly possible that I'm looking at a series
of "Potemkin villages," but with each new view of these folks, from
different directions and angles, the probability diminishes.

One of my curiosities was whether the schools are part of a cult of
personality, with Fethullah Gulen as a messianic figure at its center.
This has been suggested in some of the writings I've read from the
movement's detractors, both secularist and Islamic fundamentalist. It
would be disappointing for me, as I already (try to) follow a
messianic figure, Jesus.

In this school, there is no picture of Gulen on any wall, no quoted
slogan put up, and no mention of Gulen in the name of the school. If
it is a cult of personality, it doesn't operate in the usual way.
There's an Ataturk cult, as in many places around here (see a
following photo post), but the Gulen movement is looking either
angelically humble or devilishly subtle--so far.

I'll keep watching things unfold here, and remain my skeptical self.

Getting a beard trim in Konya

With the assistance of my erstwhile guide and translator friend, I got
my beard trimmed. It wasn't really necessary, but was fun.

Photo post: Outside the tomb of Mevlana Rumi

The 13th century philosopher-poet who became the inspiration for
Sufism, and a source of wisdom usable by all.

Turning point

We have now spent the first half of our trip mainly on building an understanding of the cultural and historical context in which 21st-century Turkey exists. Turkey is a naturally rich land. Civilization has flourished here since ancient times. At various points, Anatolia and what is now Istanbul were dominated by Greek, Roman, Byzantine, Selcuk, and Ottoman Islamic rulers.

At their height, the Ottomans built glorious physical structures, amassed great wealth, and established the traditions of inter-ethnic and intercultural tolerance that underlie the modern Turkish gestalt. Like America (until recently) they "had it all" and seemed poised to go on forever. A series of military misadventures, combined with corruption and dynastic rule (sound familiar?) led to the decline of the Ottoman empire. By the early 20th century, Turkey was known as the "sick man of Europe."

Turkey fared badly in WW1. After the war, Turkey was defeated, colonized, impoverished, and left with a negative self image. In 1923, Mustafa Kemal led a nationalist revolution. Kemal was an army general in the Ottoman time, and had a particular genius for social engineering. After throwing the colonial forces out of Turkey, he established the modern Turkish Republic. His grateful countrymen renamed him "Ataturk," which means something like "father of Turkey." Since the revolution of 1923, there has been turmoil in the country, culminating in the most recent military coup and new constitution, circa 1980. Tensions remain high, and there is currently conflict between the ruling party and elements of the judiciary.

When I was in school, the standard line taught to us in the US was that the role of the army in Turkey was to "protect the people from Islamic extremists." They would overthrow governments that they considered a threat to the strict secularism central to Ataturk's vision of a modern Turkey. Clearly, the reality of Turkish polity is much, much more complicated than we (in America) have been told. To comment much further than that would put me out of my depth, not to mention embarassing me and/or my hosts. Current politics aren't really germane to the "turning point" subject of this post anyway, except to say that we've been given a good introduction to where Turkey came from, and a glimpse of where it is now at the national level.

So, the tour now turns away from stones, bones, and national history, and onto a more personal, heart-to-heart level. As I write, we're in the mountains of central Anatolia, descending
into our next destination, the city of Konya. Konya is the small city where the great 13th century Sufi poet Rumi is buried. We'll be less touristic and more interactive from here, including more "meeting visits" and even an overnight home stay or two. Internet access may be sparse for a while, but I hope to have a rash of posts ready to upload whenever I can see the net.

Multi-faith garden

On our way from Antalya to the Aspendos amphitheater, we stopped at a
facility consisting of three small worship rooms clustered around a
fountain, one for each of the major Abrahamic faith branches. It's a
modern complex, supported by a consortium of local tourist hotels.

On the wall is my favorite (so far) quotation from Rumi, pictured here.

Photo post: res ipsa loquitur, Antalya

Dialogue, good food, much love

We split up into two groups for dinner. Our host was the director of
security for the Antalya airport. Our crew of guides now includes two
ethnic Turks, an Arab, and a Kurd. They are united in a tradition of
intercultural harmony (and, of course, Islam). There's much to
discuss, and we're working on all of it.

Photo post: taxi drivers in Antalya

Cruise on the Mediterranean

After an intense few days of acculturation, we relax in Antalya. Sun,
ice cream, lovely blue water, and shared reflections.

Photo post: at the trout farm

Lunch at a trout farm in Antalya

We went to a wooded riverside setting for fresh grilled trout. It
reminded me of childhood experiences in Grayling, Michigan.

Photo post: miniature diorama at the folk museum

Labor of love

Near Ephesus, we had lunch in a folk museum."

My first impression was of a cheesy tourist trap. Because the owner
is a friend) of our tour leader (a school teacher, who does this as
part of the Gulen movement), I managed to keep myself open to a much
more beautiful reality.

This woman (photo) served us lunch and tea, then took us around the
models that her father spent twenty years building. They are
depictions of village life in their native region of central Anatolia.
Several life-sized vignettes, and a huge diorama in miniature depict
ordinary life and celebrations, realistic of the 1950's.

Using paper mâché, human hair (hers) rich memories, and a
schoolteacher's love of storytelling, her father labored away his free
time for over two decades to produce this. People who know me know
that I don't "pick up on" unspoken feelings easily, but even I could
feel the daughter's joyful love as she took us from exhibit to exhibit.

Love, it seems, can fill the most unlikely of places.

Mother Mary prayer wall

We visited the putative home of the virgin mother Mary, near Ephesus.
The site is near a beautiful hilltop wooded glade. It includes a small
stone house, filled with shrines, a holy spring/well, and a wall where
the cultic faithful may tuck written prayers into niches (photo).
It's reminiscent of the Western Wall in Jerusalem, or the Shinto
shrine at Asakusa in Tokyo.

Personally, I have trouble "getting" the imbuing of stones and bones
with special God-connecting powers. Nevertheless, the sincerity with
which those who come here offer their fervent prayers gives me pause.
I guess it's a question of whether we just have a tendency toward a
sort of idolatry, or whether a see-able, feel-able, pilgrimage-
suitable setting somehow helps focus a nebulous "spirituality" into
real faith. I don't feel it myself, but I see it in smart, good people
who I love and respect. So, I kind of put it into the category of holy
mystery. Some people really dig it. I like holy simplicity, but I love
my mysticistic friends too.

Introducing myself

I am Phil Gerson from Temple Bnai Torah in Bellevue Washington and am a
delegate on the tour. I will be addıng my reflections to this blog.

Photo post: Ephesus

Photo post: one of our sponsors in Izmir

Intercultural dialogue

After a short, early-morning flight, we had a great hour-long
discussion with our breakfast hosts, industrialists from Izmir. We
met in a cozy carpeted conference room just off the factory CEO's
office.

Our hosts fed us a sumptuous Turkish breakfast, then sat us down for
Turkish coffee and an opening of hearts. These businesspeople are
among those sponsoring our visit. One of the reasons for their serving
in this way is their conviction that "if we truly know one another, we
cannot have a war between us."

We talked about European integration, interfaith activity in greater
Seattle, and issues of faith,love, trust, and fear. Our first two days
have given us a historical (especially Ottoman) understanding that
enhanced the context, and moved the dialogue forward.

Now, it's on to Ephesus, the Virgin Mary's house, and an early evening
flight to Anatalya.

I'll try to do some photo posts from the bus, for transmission when I
see some wi-fi.

Photo post: breakfast at a factory in Izmir

Note the three kinds of olives...

Salat: Muslim prayer

This minaret, near the ~16th century Blue Mosque, is one of the thousands from which the Azan (call to prayer) goes out five times a day.

We witnessed afternoon ("asr") prayer at the Blue Mosque.

Photo post: ablution stations at the Blue Mosque

Photo post: inside the Blue Mosque

Just amazing!

Sweet people

This man is our videographer, Bilal, with his wife and beautiful
child. His English isn't quite as good as that of our other guides,
who spent time as students in the US, but he has a very expressive face.

These are the kinds of people ("middle eastern Muslims") that we in
America are often called to fear, or consider as "subjects of
collateral damage." It's so much easier to love them when we can come
to know them.

This is so often true. We all need to get to know one another better.

Dolmabahace Palace

A long and fascinating part of our Wednesday afternoon was spent
touring this enormous palace. It is the most recent of the Ottoman
palaces, also the place where Ataturk died, built in European style,
late in the 19th century. This guard is immobile, in the Buckingham
palace style. A second guard was wiping perspiration off of his face
(as if he were a statue) just before this photo.

In addition to the extreme opulence of the place, I was struck by the
mundane nature of the bejeweled artfacts of life. Make it out of gold
and alabaster, and a bathroom is still a bathroom. The impression for
me was of a kind of wretched excess, albeit very pretty.

The palace was built with borrowed money, as the Ottoman empire was
collapsing.

I think about the huge defense and security establishment my own
country is building with borrowed money. Too bad we won't be able to
turn that into a vast museum and tourist attraction. See the atomic
bombs! Check out the surveillance gear. Be sure to visit the gift shop
on your way out...

Olives (shudder)

Olives are the only food I just don't like at all. They're very
prominent here, and apparently popular for breakfast. I can already
envision having the "oh, you just haven't tried the right kind of
olives" conversation...

Beloved Ataturk, "Father of Modern Turkey"

Like any revolutionary leader (whose revolution was successful),
Mustafa Kemal Ataturk is iconic in Turkey. On just a 20 minute morning
stroll, my new friend) Andrea and I saw two such displays on public
buildings. It's a cult of personality, just like that of a Lenin or
Castro or Washington.

Comments welcome

I just turned on "anonymous commenting," so one needn't be logged into
Google or anything to comment.

Arrived!

This is part of the ruins of the old city wall in Istanbul. The rest
of the tour arrives late tonight. I'm ready for cleaning up a bit
(after 25 hours of travel) and some exploring.

At launch time

This humble MD-80 is the first leg of the journey, Seattle to Chicago.
I'm at the airport plenty early, and thinking about all the people
who've given me this nascent adventure. Some are obvious: my dear
little sister, whose torrid love affair with American Airlines is
getting me to Istanbul and back, the people I know at the Acacia
Foundation, and a lot of fine people at Pacifica and throughout the
Fethullah Gulen movement, some of whom I'll meet in the next few days.

What I imagine accomplishing on this trip

Having done this sort of travel before, I already know exactly how it will go. The experience will not be what I expect. It never is. Knowing that in advance leaves me open to whatever the experience ends up being.

Nevertheless, I'm going with a lot of curiosity about Turkey, Islam in its various expressions, and the Fethullah Gülen movement.

Turkey was once the center of the Ottoman Empire, the military, technological, and cultural hedgemon of its world. I'm interested in "life after empire," and how it unfolds there. I'm interested in what it might tell about my own community and nation's futures.

The Gülen movement, that is sponsoring my visit, has said and done some very appealing things. They are an Islamic movement, and have their detractors among those in Turkey who favor official secularism. The main argument of the detractors I've read seems to be that while the public face of the Gülen movement is very sweet, its leadership is covertly Islamist (especially Islamist, not just Islamic). They consider foreigners who come to Turkey on dialogue tours such as ours to be simple propaganda victims.

Lack of trust was a major barrier to interfaith dialogue cited by Fr. Thomas Michel, in his lecture at Seattle University.

Jesus talked about this "wolf in sheep's clothing" problem. He suggested that the way to tell about a tree is by examining its fruit. I'm very curious to continue tasting and seeing the fruit of the Gülen movement's tree.

Finally, I'm curious about new possibilities for interfaith dialogue, tolerance, and even love in Seattle, America, and the world.

Acacia Foundation lecture in Seattle

In the run-up to our Turkey visit, I enjoyed a talk
by Fr. Thomas Michel, SJ, at the Seattle University. Fr. Michel has
long experience working on interfaith relations between Roman
Catholics and Muslims, around the world. His experiences and insights
were a useful and thought-provoking preparation for the upcoming dialogue tour.