Climbing Castles and Crossing Boarders

Weekend in retrospect. So last week I decided to explore around the area which I am staying. I happen to live 3 minutes from the Rumeli Hisara fortress that was built in 1452 when the Ottomans were taking over Constantinople. This place is amazing. Not only is it one of the most beautiful sites I have seen in the world but it would NEVER happen in America. Haha we walked on stone steps that were 500 years old... no handrails people. Nothing to keep a dumb American from toppling over one of the walls to a certain and painful death. Like a bug on a windshield our soft bodies would stand no chance against the unrelenting of stones centuries old. So the climb up the handmade, narrow, uneven steps was heart racing at times. Once we reached the top, I found a new reason for my heart to race. I have seen the Bosphorus many times since I have been here but cannot keep myself from feeling somewhere between awed and humbled in its presence. As we hiked the fortress walls we were continually made small in the presence of a city that's stood the test of time. Feeling stones that have survived the centuries, looking out at a land, though touched by humanity, not bending to it in defeat. God is amazing. The thought that this is but a small part of the world, which is a small part of our solar system, which is a minute part of the universe. Wow...

 

Now on to the the weekend. This past Saturday I met people who were soon to become like a family for the rest of the day. A family I couldn't understand. Who didn't speak the same language but who I connected with on a deeper level just the same. It made me think of my family in fact. Speaking the same language yet not understanding sometimes. Yet bonded together by something intangible and infinitely deep. It made me miss them but I also found myself instantly connected to these people who were interested in me from the beginning, people who called me friend without knowing anything about me. Inviting me to their BBQ, which was delicious by the way. The trip to the Balgrad Forrest began with a ride in the back of a covered truck. All along the way joking about how we were in trouble if the Police found out about us. In the back of this covered truck, along bumps, uneven roads, the fear of rolling over in the truck we felt much of how we imagined refugees would feel fleeing their country. We felt as though we should all have instruments as we fled Mexico in search of a better home. I say that at the risk of not being PC... oh well. :) We started breakfast at the campsite with spinach and leek filled borek. It was delicious, many classic Turkish breakfast foods. We then played volleyball and on to lunch. It was so amazing, as the pictures show it, the beautifully marinated tavuk (chicken) was cooked close to the coals of still burning wood, so delicious, fire seared, heavenly. After eating we took a walk around the forest to see all of its wonders, upon returning we sung to Turkish songs as they were expertly played on the Saz or Baglama. A video of one of the songs is here.

As I sit here devouring a box of pistaccios given to me by my Iranian roommate, I am reminded that, so far all I feel like I've done here is eat. My days are spent thinking of what I can do to fill the time in between meals. I ask myself, how better to connect with the culture though, than by its food. If it's the way to a man's heart, then it makes sense to me that I should follow the heart of the Turks in order to understand them and connect with them on a level they deserve. My goal is to immerse myself as much as possible in this culture and pray that I gain knowledge and life lessons I would never before have received, from a place I have never been. Maybe then I will be that much closer to understanding humans as a species, as individuals, with hopes, dreams, appetites and desires that span cultures, languages and geography.