In my last post of 2009, I did promise to start blogging again about ex-pat life in the Czech Republic rather than our October journey to Turkey and back. However, this afternoon, I had a brainwave as to how I could produce a map that I could put online to show our journey. So here it is! I hope it will help readers understand better my previous twenty-one posts about our trip.
Št’astný nový rok! Happy New Year!
After our three nights in Cappadocia, we then began our return journey to Prague. On Saturday 17th October, we drove around 750 km from Ürgüp to the outskirts of Ankara where we joined the motorway that then took us all the way to Istanbul. As we approached the edge of the Istanbul conurbation, the fine dry and very warm weather we had experienced throughout our time in Turkey, suddenly broke as we drove into an extremely heavy thunderstorm.
We stayed for two nights in Istanbul with a young Turkish couple who we had first met when they couchsurfed with us in Prague earlier in the year in June. In Istanbul, we had our first experience of being couchsurfing guests rather than as couchsurfing hosts. For those who don’t know what couchsurfing is, click on one of the links in this paragraph! Trying to drive to our hosts flat, located in the Asian suburbs of the city, in the midst of the horrors of the Saturday early evening traffic, is an experience I do not wish to repeat for a long, long time!
On the Sunday morning, by taxi and then by ferry across the Bosphorus, we reached the centre of the city and attended the Sung Eucharist at Christ Church, Istanbul. Here we also met up with Anna, a former member of my Prague Chaplaincy congregation about whom I’ve blogged previously. She is now teaching in Istanbul and we were able to reunite her with a suitcase and another bag containing some of her belonging she had previously left behind in Prague. By carrying them in our boot (or trunk as Anna would call it!), all the way to Istanbul, we successfully saved her the fairly serious excess baggage charges she was going to incur had she taken them with her by air as she had originally planned.
The Istanbul Anglican Chaplain, the slightly eccentric but very warm and welcoming Canon Ian Sherwood, entertained Sybille, Anna and I to lunch, along with two Sri Lankan men, one a Tamil and the other, a Sinhalese. After lunch, Sybille and I went on to explore the famous sights of the Blue Mosque and the Aya Sophia. However, we both found the city quite overwhelming.
The population of the Istanbul is variously estimated as being somewhere between 15 and 18 million. It is a horribly crowded city with people everywhere. Added to this, there were three or four cruise liners moored on the Bosphorus and we constantly ran into guided tours from these ships. Therefore, having travelled back across the Bosphorus by ferry and then located a bus to return us to our hosts flat, we resolved to leave Istanbul the next morning and head for Montenegro.
I cannot help but reflect upon the great contrasts that I saw during our time in Turkey which in turn reflects the tensions that underlie present-day Turkish society. At one level, the country is very much looking west towards Europe. It wants the tourist Euro and has developed a series of resorts along its Aegean coast to cater for those who wish to come from Germany, Britain and elsewhere in Northern Europe, for a sun, sea and sand holiday. Likewise, it has recognised the wealth of historic and scenic attractions that lie within its borders and has begun both to preserve and promote such sites as Ephesus and the wonders of Cappadocia.
But European tourists coming for a relaxing summer holiday will inevitably wear relatively brief casual clothing. On the beach, women will wear bikinis with some even sunbathing topless as they have for many years on the Greek islands only a few kilometres off the Turkish coast. Visiting tourists also expect to be able to go to a bar for a cold beer and share a bottle of wine when having a meal in a restaurant.
At present, in the beach resorts and in the areas surrounding other major visitor attractions, the tourist Euro is triumphing over the pressure for the implementation of so-called ‘Islamic values’. The wearing of western casual clothing is accepted. There are bars serving Efes beer, (Efes being the Turkish name for Ephesus) which is itself brewed within Turkey. The country also produces its own wine which is served in restaurants and is available for purchase in some supermarkets and stores. In particular, the Cappadocia region produces some extremely quaffable white wines which we enjoyed on several occasions.
But you do not have to go far in Turkey to see a complete contrast. When travelling between Pamukkale and Cappadocia, we stayed overnight in Konya, a large city with a population of nearly 1 million people. Here we noticed that somewhere between 85-90% of women wore the hijab and Sybille felt rather stared at by some people for walking around the city in jeans and a short sleeved tee-shirt. And despite a fairly lengthy search, we could not find a bar or restaurant that served alcoholic drinks, nor was wine or beer for sale in any supermarket or shop. As far as we could ascertain, Konya was effectively ‘dry’ despite being no more than three hours drive from the wine producing area of Cappadocia.
This contrast, between those who want Turkey to be a European orientated country and those who want it to be a very conservative Islamic republic, is best illustrated by one sight I saw and by two contrasting reports given at the Eastern Archdeaconry Synod in Izmir. With these I will end my blogging about my recent time in Turkey.
When driving from Cappadocia to Istanbul, we stopped for lunch at a service area on the Ankara – Istanbul motorway. Sitting at an outdoor table waiting for our meal to be served, I watched people as they arrived, parked their vehicles and walked towards the restaurant, shops and toilet facilities. First came a Turkish couple, probably in their late twenties or early thirties. He was wearing a smart suit, open neck shirt and sunglasses; she was wearing a bright red woollen short minidress, teamed with black tights and long leather boots that came over her knees. Immediately behind them came a coach party, the majority of whom were women of whom all except one were wearing a hijab and body enveloping conservative clothing.
At the Eastern Archdeaconry Synod, Rev’d Ron Evans, the Anglican Chaplain in Izmir reported that his Chaplaincy had received financial help from the Izmir City authorities for repairs to the gutters and down pipes of St. John’s Church, because they wanted to help maintain and preserve historic buildings within the city. His namesake, Canon Geoffrey Evans, the Anglican Chaplain in Ankara, remarked that he feels it is only because his Church building lies within the grounds of the British Embassy that his Chaplaincy is still able to function, such are the Islamizing pressures within the Turkish capital.
Over the past fifteen or so years, there has been a marked increase in the number of women from Muslim families living Western societies, who have taken to wearing the hijab or headscarf. This trend, which I have previously observed when living in the UK, was very evident on the streets of Turkey during my recent visit. As I remarked at the end of my last post, this is a very obvious outward sign of the increasing Islamization of the supposedly secular state of Turkey. It is also the source of much tension and controversy within the country.
The usual explanation offered as to why most Islamic teachers insist that Muslim women should wear the hijab, is that the Koran states that women should ‘dress modestly’. This raises a number of questions. Who decides what is or isn’t modest? Why is wearing a headscarf that covers a woman’s hair and neck deemed to be modest? Why is it deemed immodest for a Muslim woman to show her hair in public?
I observed some Turkish women who wore the hijab with a loose fitting full-length coat that revealed no obvious body shape and no bare skin except the hands and face. One could reasonably argue that they were dressed modestly. But if a woman dressed in this manner was accompanied by a man, presumably their husband, then almost without exception, that man was dressed in the latest Western fashion, usually jeans and a designer shirt! A very clear case of ‘one rule for men and a completely different rule for women’. And what so many Muslim men quietly forget is that the Koran calls for women and men to dress modestly.
However, the vast majority of women wearing the hijab combine it with outfits that are predominantly the epitome of Western women’s fashion. Some will wear a shawl that goes around their shoulders and hangs down as far as their waist, thus covering the shape of their breasts. Other wear a hijab which is itself long enough to cover the upper part of their torso. But many Turkish women I observed, dressed no differently than their counterparts on the streets of Prague or London, other than wearing a headscarf covering their hair and neck.
The ultimate example I saw was a woman walking up and across the snow-white hillside and paddling in the shallow pools of warm spring water at Pamukkale. She was duly wearing her hijab. But the rest of her outfit consisted of a short-sleeved tight fitting tee-shirt, with silvery decoration on the front that very much emphasised her breasts, together with skin-tight low waisted jeans which revealed the top half of her G-string when she bent over! What on earth was the point of her wearing a hijab? The rest of her outfit was in total contradiction to what the hijab is supposedly meant to express.
I am awfully aware that I am a male Christian minister making these observations and comments. However, I was reassured in my observations and conclusions by reading the blog of a woman, now living in Prague, who previously lived in Turkey for a year. Sezin Koehler makes very similar remarks in her blog post entitled ‘Turkish Delight Vol. 11 – Stilettos and headscarves’. Sezin clearly saw many more extreme examples than I did such as bare midriffs, miniskirts and stiletto-healed boots combined with a hijab. She too points out the utter contradiction of women wearing such outfits.
As part of his efforts to modernise Turkey and bring it, sometimes kicking and screaming, into the twentieth century, Ataturk banned the wearing of headgear by both men and women, in all government buildings which, amongst other places, includes universities. He himself, adopted western dress as an example for Turkish citizens to follow. The current Turkish government recently tried to introduce a change in the law to allow women to wear the hijab in universities. This was passed in parliament but thrown out by the constitutional court because it was deemed incompatible with Ataturk’s secular constitution.
Part of me has great reservations about laws that seek to prevent anyone from wearing something that is an expression of their faith. If you say to Muslim women that they cannot wear a hijab whilst attending classes in schools or universities, then the corollary is that Christian women should be prevented from wearing a cross in the same places. So at one level, I would want to defend a woman’s right to wear the hijab if she genuinely and personally wants to do so because she believes it to be and expression of her faith. But as I have already pointed out, there is frequently a considerable contradiction and hypocrisy on the part of many women who do so. However, it is equally true that many Western women who wear a cross, often wear it more as a fashion accessory rather than as an expression of personal faith.
What I really object to is the other reasoning given by Islamic teachers (always male!) as to why women should wear the hijab. It is to stop men looking at women as sex objects and to allay male lust because; male lust is the fault and responsibility of women! When objecting to this perverse reasoning, for once, my being a male is to my advantage.
This perverse reasoning is not confined solely to male Islamic teachers. It is used by some defence lawyers and their male clients in mitigation for the offence of rape or the attempted rape of a woman. The poor female victim is accused of being at least partly responsible for the crime committed against her because she was wearing a short skirt or a top that showed too much cleavage.
As a male, I hope that I can look at a woman who is dressed attractively and be able to say, “She looks nice”, without any need to molest her in any manner. To be able to appreciate her God given beauty rather blame her for leading me astray. To recognise women as complimentary and equal to men, rather than seeking to subjugate them. To not see women as purely a temptation to sin. For however much certain Islamic teachers may protest otherwise, the day to day practice of Islam does effectively turn women into second-class citizens and insisting that women must wear the hijab is in many ways indicative of that.
However, before being too critical about how some people dress in the Islamic world, it should be said that we in the West can often also be far too concerned about the way we and other people look. Why is it that many politicians now use image consultants? I am always reminded of the words of God to Samuel the prophet as recorded in the Old Testament. “The Lord does not look at the things human beings look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart”. 1 Samuel 16 v7
What matter most is not our outward dress or appearance but our inner motives and attitudes.
Before I continue describing and illustrating our journey back to Prague from Cappadocia in central Turkey, via Bulgaria, Serbia, Montenegro, Croatia, Bosnia, Croatia again, Slovenia, Italy and Austria, I want to post a more reflective piece about Turkey and the tensions and issues that it currently faces. In many respects these are a microcosm of what increasingly divides the West, with its culture and values that are Christian in origin though becoming increasingly secular, from those countries in the Middle East, the Gulf, other parts of Asia and North Africa, where Islam is the majority religion which is increasingly being expressed and practiced in a far more extreme and militant fashion.
The Republic of Turkey came into being from the crumbling remains of the Ottoman Empire at the end of the First World War. The Ottoman Empire, being one of the so-called Central Powers of Germany, Austro-Hungary and Bulgaria, was on the losing side in WW1 and certain territorial promises were made to nations that supported the victorious allies as to those parts of the ‘sick man of Europe’ they might gain when it came to dividing up the spoils in 1918. Most notably, Greece had visions of re-establishing itself right around the Aegean Sea coast, not least because there was still a large Greek-speaking, Orthodox Christian population in the western part of what is now Turkey.
What the victorious allies, and Greece in particular, had not reckoned with was an officer in the defeated Ottoman army called Mustafa Kemel, He formed and led a national army of resistance to defend the lands where the Turks were in a majority and to thwart the allies attempts to partition the country. His forces successfully drove back and defeated the Greek army who at one time had come to within 80 km of Ankara. Eventually in July 1923, the Treaty of Lausanne was signed which brought and end to the Greek – Turkish War and later that year, the Republic of Turkey was proclaimed with Mustafa Kemel as its first president.
Mustafa Kemel took the surname Ataturk, the name by which he is far better known, which literally means ‘Father Turk’. This was one of his many reforms that he introduced. Until that time, no Turk had a surname – Ataturk made everybody have one, including himself!
Ataturk set about turning Turkey into a modern twentieth century nation state. He analysed the institutions and constitutions of France, Italy, Sweden and Switzerland and adapted and adopted different parts as best fitted the new Turkish state. One of his many reforms was introducing a new Turkish alphabet based on Latin letters rather than Arabic script to help improve literacy. He sought to raise the status of women by, amongst other things, granting them full political rights, well ahead of many European countries.
His greatest reform was to make Turkey a secular state. He established a code of civil law and abolished religious courts. He set up a system of state education with a curriculum controlled by the civil Ministry of Education, not by Islamic teachers. He did not suppress Islam – in fact he actively encouraged the translation of the Koran into Turkish, using the newly adopted Latin alphabet. But he wanted his people to be able to read the Islamic scriptures for themselves so they might understand better what Islam actually taught.
Ataturk died in November 1938 and is rightly revered as the father of the nation. He is buried in a massive mausoleum in Ankara and there are statues of him in most Turkish towns and cities. There is no question that Turkey would not be the nation it now is but for Ataturk. And yet many people now feel that his legacy is slowly being undermined.
The rise of militant or fundamentalist Islam in recent years elsewhere in the Islamic world has begun to impinge on Turkey. Ataturk always encouraged Turkey to look west to Europe and to adopt western dress and cultural patterns. The country is a member of NATO and has been in negotiations to join the EU for several years. Yet all of this is being challenged by Islamists who want the country to look east, adopt their version of Islamic culture and values and introduce Sharia law.
For the past seven years, the country has been ruled by the AKP political party whose leaders were once part of a now illegal religious party. Whilst they say they will uphold Ataturk’s principles and constitution, many believe their real agenda is an Islamist one. The governing party draws its support from the rural regions of Anatolia; the secular opposition from the middle classes of the big cities, particularly Istanbul and Izmir.
The outward expression of these two divergent cultural and political outlooks is most clearly seen in the area of female clothing and fashion, in particular the wearing of the hijab or headscarf. To this ‘political issue’, as a young Turkish couple described it to me, I shall return in my next post.
After an interesting week here in Prague with the events marking the twentieth anniversary of the Velvet Revolution, I shall return to writing about our trip last month to Asia and back.
The final place we visited in Cappadocia was the Ihlara Valley. This lies about 40km south-west of Derinkuyu and was somewhere I had not visited during my 1975 trip. It is located near Mount Hasan and Mount Melendiz, two of the now extinct volcanoes whose past eruptions have left Cappadocia covered with volcanic lava and ash. The Ihlara Valley or Gorge has been formed by the Melendiz River cutting down through this soft rock to depth of around 100metres over a distance of some 14km.
There are a limited number of access points to the valley. The one we used was about 4km from the village of Ihlara, adjacent to a cliff top restaurant overlooking the valley. Here we ate a late lunch following our morning exertions exploring the underground city at Derinkuyu. From the side of the restaurant there is a series of more than 300 steps that are part of the route that leads down to the valley floor. Walking down, I was very conscious that at the end of the visit, I would have to walk back up from whence I’d come!
Within the Ihlara Valley, as in the much more famous Göreme Valley, there are a series of ancient Churches carved into the soft rock of the cliff sides. Like the Göreme Valley Churches, those in the Ihlara Valley are also decorated with frescoes and paintings. Unfortunately, this ancient artwork has suffered much more than in Göreme, from both the natural elements of rain and damp, as well as mindless vandalism. Only recently has the area been made secure with an entry fee being charged and the valley closed at night.
Unfortunately, there are not staff supervising each of the Churches to prevent idiots carving their names, or deal with visitors ignoring notices about not using flash when taking photographs, to avoid any further damage to the paintings. The legible carved names on both the Church walls and the helpful signposts to the different Churches were almost without exception, Turkish names. I was left to wonder if those self-same people would dare do the same thing to the decoration on the wall of a mosque. I think I know the answer to my question!
We only had a little over two hours to explore the valley before the light began to fade. Sunlight disappears far earlier at the valley floor because of the surrounding high cliffs. It would have been wonderful to walk the length of the valley and visit far more Churches than the few we were able to visit before returning up those 300+ steps!