May

A Whirlwind of Whirling

by Meredith Mullins on May 21, 2019

Two whirling dervishes dancing in Istanbul;s Sufi Sema ceremony. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Visions of dervishes dancing in my head
© Meredith Mullins

The Travel Adventures of an Istanbul Dervish Groupie

I have always been drawn to exotic corners of the world. Travel adventures at the crossroads of cultures. Layers of the past interwoven with the changing rhythms of the present. The magical and mysterious places of trade-route caravans and Scheherazade-like storytelling.

Always on the list was Istanbul. I had been to Turkey many times. I had seen incredible riches, such as the strangely beheaded statues of Nemrut Dagi in the east, the ancient Greco-Roman ruins in seaside villages of the south coast, and the moonscapes of Cappadocia.

But in all my travels, I had yet to see the mystical Sufi Sema ceremony. Visions of whirling dervishes were dancing in my head.

Mosque at dusk in Istanbul, city where the whirling dervishes dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Travel adventures in Istanbul
© Meredith Mullins

Let the Journey Begin

I headed to Istanbul, where I knew the dervishes were still performing, sponsored by cultural centers that are dedicated to sharing this 700-year-old ritual with the modern world. My destiny was clear . . . but there were to be challenges.

After a few false starts, my small Turkish internet airline managed to rally a plane. When we finally landed in Istanbul in the dead of night, a kindly van driver said he was our ride.

All was well until our van was stopped as we left the airport, and the driver was taken away by the police. Another kindly van driver took over and explained that “it was just a small problem with the local authorities.”

These are the kind of travel adventures that make you glad you finally arrive safely at your destination.

Then . . . on my very next night, a mysterious stranger brushed past and whispered “Pssst, wanna see some dervishes?”

And so it was meant to be. And for the next ten days, I was in a whirlwind of whirling. I became a dervish groupie.

Cistern of the basilica in Istanbul, city where whirling dervishes dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Istanbul is not all whirling dervishes. The mysterious basilica cistern also merits a visit.
© Meredith Mullins

Istanbul Promise

Although there are many things to do and see in Istanbul, such as the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia, Topkapi Palace, the covered market, the labyrinthian basilica cistern, and the ancient hammams, I was on a dervish mission.

Covered market in Istanbul, city where the whirling dervishes dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

The Istanbul covered market is a maze of treasures. Can you find the seller in this photo?
© Meredith Mullins

I watched dervishes every night and came to know the Sema ceremony by heart. I fell into my own trance as the dervishes danced. They were mesmerizing and showed me a graceful path to Rumi’s hope that we all learn to “take a step without feet.”

Whirling dervishes dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Let us learn to take a step without feet.—Rumi
© Meredith Mullins

The Sufi Philosophy

Konya, in central Turkey, is the center of the dervishes, where the Islamic Mevlevi order was founded in 1312. This particular dimension of Islam followed the spiritual philosophies of the mystical poet and Sufi master Rumi, also called Mevlana (or “our leader”).

At the height of the order, there were more than 100 tekkes (monasteries) across the Ottoman empire (including Greece, Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Syria, and Iran).

Mevlana’s followers had monasteries across the middle east.
© Meredith Mullins

After World War I, however, the Sufi organizations were declared illegal. But the dervishes whirled on, often in secret. Today, several government sponsored venues are organized for visitors to better understand this historic dance of prayer.

Whirling dervishes in black cloaks arrive to dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

The dervishes arrive in black cloaks.
© Meredith Mullins

The Dance

The dervishes, also called semazens, arrive in black cloaks. The gesture of removing their cloak to reveal their white tenure with its swirling skirt represents a spiritual rebirth to the truth. They are freeing themselves from the attachments of this world, just as their leader Rumi did with his ascetic life.

One of several whirling dervishes with arms crossed before beginning to dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

At the beginning of the ceremony, the dervishes cross their arms to show unity with God.
© Meredith Mullins

They wear a tall tubular camel hair hat, called a sikke. The sikke represents a tombstone for the ego. The dervishes, lose themselves—their ego—in their dance as they meditate, chant, and pray.

While whirling, they hold their right hand toward the sky, showing their readiness to receive God’s love. They hold their left hand toward the earth to pass that gift to those on earth.

One of several whirling dervishes holding the palm of one hand toward the sky and the other hand toward Earth during the dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

As they whirl, dervishes hold their right hand toward the sky and their left hand toward the earth.
© Meredith Mullins

They whirl to show the idea of a revolving body. This is part of their faith—the idea that everything revolves—from the planets; to the protons, neutrons, and electrons of atoms; to blood flowing through our bodies; to the human cycle of birth to death.

It is said that the Sema ceremony unites the three fundamental components of human nature: mind, body, and heart. Some people think that the dervishes are in ecstasy when they whirl.

The movement represents revolving in all aspects of life.
© Meredith Mullins

But the music and dramatic turning just give them a feeling of soaring . . . of mystical flight. They are in a meditative trance.

Rumi said, “There are many roads which lead to God. I have chosen the one of dance and music.”

Close-up of the face of one of the whirling dervishes during the dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

A mystical flight
© Meredith Mullins

An “Oh, I See” Moment in the World of Travel Adventures

No matter what religious beliefs you hold or what spiritual path you might be on, the Sema ceremony of the whirling dervishes is spellbinding.

These moments are the kind of travel adventures that let you see into the souls of the local people and learn from their teachings—the absolute best way to see the world.

Only from the heart can you touch the sky. —Rumi

Close-up of one of the whirling dervishes during the dance in the Sufi Sema ceremony in Istanbul. (Image © Meredith Mullins)

Touching the sky
© Meredith Mullins

For more information about whirling dervishes and the Sema ceremonies in Istanbul, visit the Galata Mevlevi House Museum and the Hodjapasha Cultural Center site.

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Meredith Mullins 2 Comments

Adventure Travel/Turkey

Aug

Rendezvous à la Turk

by Joyce McGreevy on August 27, 2018

A young Turkish American girl celebrates her heritage at the Turkish Arts and Culture Festival in Monterey, California. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Derya Bolgün, age 10, welcomes you to the Turkish Arts and Culture Festival
in Monterey, California.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Cultural Festival Calls Forth Memories

You won’t need sugar in your fincan kahve (cup of coffee) this morning. Şekerpare, a delicate cookie made with semolina, almonds, and love, delivers the sweetness. So, inhale the rich aroma and galvanize your senses with robust brew. If you closed your eyes, you could be in Istanbul.

But you’re at a Turkish cultural festival in Monterey, California.

Pastries like Sekerpare and irmik helvasa connect Turkish Arts and Culture Festival in Monterey, California to the author’s memories of Istanbul. (Images © Joyce McGreevy/ Ceren Abi)

Is baklava Turkish or Greek? Depends on whom you ask. Şekerpare (center) and irmik helvasa (right)
reflect culinary traditions of Turkey’s Ottoman Empire.
© Joyce McGreevy (L)/ Ceren Abi (R)

Re(sound)

Oh, I see: At cultural festivals, details evoke worlds. At Monterey’s Custom House Plaza, the percussive rhythm of the davul and the string-song of a bağalama become a soundtrack for Turkish memories.

Young women at the Turkish Arts and Culture Festival in Monterey, California reflect the exuberance of Turkish line dancing and inspire memories of Istanbul. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Young women in Monterey, California reflect the exuberance of Turkish line dancing.
© Joyce McGreevy

Every note I hear is layered with sounds remembered:

The singsong pitch of street vendors and the sonorous calls-to-prayer of the muezzin; the miyav (meow) of sociable kediler (cats); the sparkling humor and plaintive beseeching of TV soap operas; the clatter of plates and clink of glasses at a meyhane; the buzz and bump of motorbikes on cobbled alleys; the banter of fishermen at the Galata Bridge amid the commentary of seagulls.

As if on cue, a colony of seagulls above Monterey Bay choruses raucously, bringing my senses back to California.

Re(scene)

At a cultural festival a single image can reassemble memory’s mosaic. I spot a display of nazar boncuğu, blue glass eye beads. Traditionally, these talismans warded off misfortune’s “evil eye” by staring boldly back, commanding misery to come no closer. In reality, Turks collect them mostly for their beauty and to give as gifts.

A display case of nazar boncuğu, blue glass eye beads, connect a Turkish Arts and Culture Festival in Monterey, California with the author’s memories of Istanbul. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The eyes have it: Shown here in Monterey, nazar boncuğu are everywhere in Turkey.
© Joyce McGreevy

Seen in Monterey, the blue beads trigger a montage of memories: The blue-tiled Rüstem Paşa Mosque, bluer even than Istanbul’s more famous Blue Mosque. The azure blue of summer sky as you ferry across the steel blue Bosporus from Istanbul’s European side to its Asian side. The intense dark blue of lapis lazuli in a jeweler’s window. The shimmering blue of peacocks in a palace garden. Blue-black figs at an open-air market.

Re(word)

One 15th-century word encapsulates the entire spectrum of blues that first dazzled travelers in Turkey. The French pronounced it tur-KWAZ.

Yes, turquoise, or literally, “Turkish.” Today, we reserve that word for the bluish-green stone mined in arid regions of Turkey, America’s Southwest, and elsewhere. “Phosphate of copper and aluminum” lacks a certain poetry.

A collage of scenes in Istanbul and Bodrum reflects the prevalence of the color blue in Turkish arts and culture. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The color blue is prevalent throughout Turkey.
© Joyce McGreevy

A Thirst for Memories

Turkish wines are superb, but it’s too early to sample them. And other beverages offer their own complexities. A glass of gold is made using two stacked kettles, the lower kettle to boil the water, the top to warm the loose-leaf çay, or tea. Tulip-shaped glasses are essential.

A glass of Turkish tea at a cultural festival in Monterey, California inspires memories of Istanbul, Turkey. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Serve Turkish tea in glasses to assess its strength and admire its color.
© Joyce McGreevy

Now let’s order lunch and ayran (EYE-rahn), a salty, ice-cold yogurt drink. It’s an acquired taste, but a refreshing one, too. The savory, restorative counterpart to the American milkshake.

Two men cook Turkish food, one at a cultural festival in Monterey, California and one in Istanbul. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

In tiny pop-up kitchens, two chefs—one in Monterey, one in Istanbul—satisfy hungry crowds.
© Joyce McGreevy

Ne yemek istersin? “What would you like to eat?” Turkish cuisine goes way beyond doner kebap. It reflects two continents, a host of regional, seasonal variations, and the experiences of 2,000 centuries. From palatial restoranları to rickety stands on street corners, Turkish kitchens produce some of the world’s most splendid fare.

uyers, sellers, and Turkish ceramics at at a cultural festival in Monterey, California form a colorful collage of Istanbul street scenes. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Colorful Turkish ceramics in Monterey (upper left) recall a feast of colors in Istanbul.
© Joyce McGreevy

The Taste of Memories

Turkish breakfast is a lavish affair, a beautifully constructed spread of the finest regional cheeses, cured olives, egg dishes, rose jam, and more. But nothing inspires morning rapture quite like simit. It is to Turkey what the croissant is to Paris—deceptively simple and simply superb.

To find simit in Turkey, just look for the man wheeling a red trolley or balancing a tray stacked ten tiers high. In the U.S., simit is increasingly available at Mediterranean delis and bakeries, including Monterey’s International Market.

Served fresh and warm, simit are downright inspiring. They have even inspired the noun can simidi (jahn SIH-mihd-ee)—the name for the ring-shaped life preservers on Turkish ferries.

Simit at a cultural festival in Monterey, California inspires memories of Istanbul, Turkey. (Image © Ceren Abi)

The perfect Turkish breakfast begins with simit, a circular bread encrusted with sesame seeds.
© Ceren Abi

Turkish Memory Lane

By now even a passing California car inspires Turkish reverie: While driving from Istanbul to Bodrum, my Turkish relatives and I stop at the town of Ortaklar. Ortaklar’s main street is lined with carwashes, but each represents only half of a family-owned business. I discover the other half when we pull into Necati’nin Yeri.

While the car is seen to, we join festive diners at long tables under shade trees and canopies. Dish after exquisite dish arrives, and a young man slides flat rounds of dough into an outdoor oven, where they puff up like balloons. This is lavas (lah-VAHSH), so irresistible it’s a wonder the customers don’t puff up like balloons, too.

Recalling this feast, I momentarily conflate thoroughly Turkish fare and American thoroughfares. Oh right, I’m in Monterey, California, not Ortaklar. But everything is redolent with the sweet confusion of memories.

Two street scenes, one during a cultural festival in Monterey, one in Istanbul, celebrate Turkish culture. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

On a day in August, families stroll in Monterey and Istanbul. Can you tell which is which?
© Joyce McGreevy

The Taste of Turkish Words

I savor, too, the taste of Turkish words. A cultural festival offers the chance to practice. The Turkish language is considered fiendishly difficult to learn, but I disagree. Difficult to master, sure, but that’s true of any language. The spelling of modern Turkish is largely phonetic, so once you recognize differences in the alphabet and get the hang of certain sounds, you might be surprised at how quickly you catch on.

It begins with Merhaba (MEHR-hah-bah). Hello!

Fisherman’s Wharf Monterey inspires a visitor to a nearby Turkish cultural festival ito recall a similar scene at the Bosporus in Istanbul. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Left to right: On Monterey Bay and Istanbul’s Bosporus, friendly people go with the flow.
© Joyce McGreevy

Learning to say hello, surely that’s the takeaway of cultural festivals. Hello to the connections between here and there, past and present, you and me. Merhaba to families strolling along the Bosporus and families strolling along Monterey Bay. Hello, Merhaba, and Welcome to whatever connects us all.

Thank you to Ceren Abi for contributing to this article. Seni seviyorum, Ceren!

See more of the Monterey Turkish Arts and Culture Festival here.

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Joyce McGreevy Comments

Crossing Cultures/Language & Culture/Turkey/USA

Feb

The Street Cats of Istanbul

by Joyce McGreevy on February 29, 2016

A cat sleeps on an awning in Nine Lives: Cats in Istanbul (Kedi), a film documentary that reflects a creative effort to preserve Turkish tradition and this aspect of Turkey's cultural heritage. (Image © Termite Films)

Wherever you go in Istanbul, you see cats. A new documentary explores the
charms and challenges of their urban habitat.
© Termite Films

How a Cat Kit and a Movie Keep Cultural Heritage Alive

They greet you from doorways, welcome you to parks. If you are kind, they may join you for a stroll. Others watch shyly from rooftops and balconies.

Still others enjoy people watching from the windows of businesses they have adopted.

A cat in a hat shop in Istanbul captures the city's concern for stray cats and reflects the desire to preserve Turkish tradition and this aspect of Turkey's cultural heritage. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The Cat in the Hat (Shop): Some street cats find homes in
Istanbul’s commercial districts. Not all are so lucky.
© Joyce McGreevy

Then there are those who snooze through it all. Having located a cozy spot, they catnap amid a human population of 20 million.

A cat napping on a parked motorcycle in Istanbul shows the extent of the city’s concern for stray cats and reflects the desire to preserve Turkish tradition and this aspect of Turkey's cultural heritage. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Born to be mild: Many Istanbul municipalities have animal care centers
to ease the rigors of street life.
© Joyce McGreevy

Oh, I see: They are the street cats of Istanbul. Welcome to “Catstantinople.” Here, when a black cat crosses your path, it’s not bad luck; it’s an encounter with cultural heritage.

Cats in Turkish Tradition

The Bosphorus strait is the backdrop to the many rich aspects of Turkey’s cultural heritage, including the Turkish tradition of street cats in Istanbul. (Image © silverjohn/ iStock)

The Bosphorus connects the Black Sea with the Sea of Marmara. Just beyond lie the
Aegean Sea and the Mediterranean.
© silverjohn/ iStock

Istanbul itself stretches out like a cat across a sunlit expanse—a cat with nine lives and then some. At 7,000 years old, the world’s only transcontinental city straddles the European and Asian sides of the Bosphorus strait.

Throughout centuries of tumultuous change, the cats’ rule over the city has remained a constant.

Hagia Sophia, a site of Turkish tradition, has become another home to cats in Istanbul, a beloved aspect of Turkey’s cultural heritage. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Detail from Hagia Sophia, once a basilica, then a mosque, now a heritage site–and one more home to cats.
© Joyce McGreevy

Cats have a special place in religious tradition. The prophet Muhammad was fond of cats and advocated for their protection.

Legend has it that when the prophet stroked the back and forehead of one feline, cats everywhere gained the ability to always land on their feet. Some people associate stripes on a cat with Muhammad’s gesture.

Today Turks of every belief system treat cats as honored neighbors. How honored? When President Obama toured Hagia Sophia in 2013, resident cat Gli was there to greet him. Like a cat with the cream, Gli’s been lapping up publicity ever since.

Respect for animal welfare is part of the Turkish culture and even has legal standing. In 2004, Turkey passed laws “to ensure that animals are afforded a comfortable life . . . and are protected from harm in the best manner possible.”

Kits for Cats

Even as legislative approaches continue to be debated, thousands of cats have been humanely caught, vaccinated, neutered or spayed, and released. Residents bring food, stop to pet them, and often adopt them. But still there was a need to shelter cats from harsh weather.

A street cat blends in with its environment in Istanbul, where cats have become a Turkish tradition and part of its cultural heritage. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Now cats are getting help from a furniture designer, who translated personal concern for animal welfare into action. In Ankara, designer Bahadır Yargın of Adore Mobilya, a Turkish furniture manufacturer, began to recycle scrap wood into easy-assembly pet houses.

A cat sits on the roof of a low-cost, DIY pet house designed by Bahadır Yargın of Adore Mobilya, a furniture company in Turkey whose efforts at sheltering the stray cats of Istanbul preserve a Turkish tradition and this aspect of Turkey's cultural heritage. (Image © Adore Mobiliya)

For the equivalent of about three dollars to cover shipping, one Turkish furniture company helped house thousands of cats.
© Adore Mobilya

Adore Mobilya then provided kits to the public for the cost of shipping, enabling anyone to build shelters for pets and strays. The response was enthusiastic. The first pet houses sold out and more releases are planned.

Employees at Baraka Consulting assemble a pet house to house one of the stray cats of Istanbul, thereby preserving a Turkish tradition and cultural heritage. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Outside the offices of Baraka Consulting Group, Reha Abi and Bilge Topaç assemble a pet house,
part of the effort to help Istanbul’s homeless cats.
© Joyce McGreevy

City Cats in Cinema

Soon the cats of Istanbul may come to a movie theatre near you. Director Ceyda Torun, who shares Yargın’s personal concern for animal welfare, has devoted a feature-length film to the stray cats.

As she explains, Nine Lives: Cats in Istanbul “focuses on the millions of street cats that live in one of the world’s most populated cities and the people who love and care for them. It is a profile of an ancient city and its unique people as seen through the eyes of the most mysterious and beloved animal that humans have ever known.”

Kittens seen in a still from the documentary Nine Lives: Cats in Istanbul (Kedi) reflects a creative effort to protect a Turkish tradition and preserve this aspect of Turkey's cultural heritage. (Image © Termite Films)

Arrayed like musical notes, cats like these provide the pulse beat of Istanbul street life.
Kira Fontana’s film score for Nine Lives (Kedi) captures that feline rhythm.
© Termite Films

Torun, who studied Anthropology at Boston University, grew up in Istanbul. She says her childhood was “infinitely less lonesome than it would have been if it weren’t for cats. They were my friends and confidants and I missed their presence in all the other cities I ever lived in.”

That includes Los Angeles, where Torun co-founded Termite Films with cinematographer Charlie Wupperman. For his part, Wupperman never imagined he “would one day be lying on the streets of Istanbul getting on eye level with cats, human shoes, and car tires in order to shoot a documentary.”

Nine Lives makes its U.S. debut in Salem, Massachusetts, on March 6 at the Salem Film Festival. Wider distribution is planned.

Meanwhile, “tails of the city” beguile local audiences every day as the street cats pad their way through Istanbul. Now the hope is that the creative efforts of Adore Mobilya and Termite Films can preserve this aspect of Turkey’s cultural heritage with purrfect cattitude.

A traffic safety sign depicting a cat crossing the street in Istanbul captures the city's concern for stray cats and reflects the desire to preserve Turkish tradition and this aspect of Turkey's cultural heritage. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Watch a trailer from Nine Lives: Cats in Istanbul here and get updates.

See more Adore Mobilya pet houses for cats here.

Keep current on the cats of Istanbul on Facebook and Tumblr.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Joyce McGreevy 1 Comment

Cultural Heritage & Traditions/Turkey

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Category Archives: Turkey