Istanbul Day 4: Dervish delight

One of the most profound moments I had in Istanbul was seeing the Whirling Dervishes perform. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen them, though the performance was more intimate than the one I saw years ago. It was more intimate because I’ve been reading Sufi poetry for over ten years now (Whirling Dervishes are Sufis), and so seeing the Dervishes after years of reading my favorite poets: Rumi and Hafiz, made the experience unbelievably special. In fact, Rumi died in Konya, the town where one of my colleagues lives, and I plan to make a pilgrimage out there this winter.

It’s difficult to summarize the Sufi tradition, or any religion really, so I’ll do my best here. Sufism is a mystical branch of Islam, though some Sufis argue that they came before the Prophet Mohammed, while others find that offensive. As one website said, Sufism “has its roots in the Qu’ran and the Islamic tradition, but at the same times encompasses the universal mysticism that we see in other spiritual traditions. The essence of Sufism is the simple path of loving God. The Sufi Masters sing of the all pervading love which inundates their being when they become one with their “beloved”. If there is just one goal of Sufism; it is to overcome the attachment to the binding ego and attain liberation through realising one’s identity with God.”

Reading Hafiz and Rumi, I am always so moved by the simple, divine love they express for God, which always make God seem so close and intimate, like a best friend or lover. In fact, in Sufi poetry we often find God referred to as Friend, Beloved, Father, Mother, the Wine seller, the Problem giver, and the Problem solver. As the website states: “This ambiguity in describing God served a dual purpose. Firstly it made it difficult for his poetry to be censored for its unorthodox mystical ideas. It also illustrates the inherent difficulty a poet has in describing the nature of God. The infinite is beyond all name and form, how can the poet describe that which is beyond words?”

The website goes on to say: “The Sufi masters believed that outer religious forms were useless, unless they inspired the inner devotion. Poetry was their tool to poke fun at the pompous and arrogant. They took great delight in exposing hypocrisy, pride and vanity.”

Finally, here is a quote from the Sufi commentator Quashayri:

Sufism is entry into exemplary behavior and departure from unworthy behavior. Sufism means that God makes you die to yourself and makes you live in him. The Sufi is single in essence; nothing changes him, nor does he change anything. The sign of the sincere Sufi is that he feels poor when he has wealth, is humble when he has power, and is hidden when he has fame. Sufism means that you own nothing and are owned by nothing.

Sufism means entrusting the soul to God most high for whatever he wishes. Sufism means seizing spiritual realities and giving up on what creatures possess. Sufism means kneeling at the door of the Beloved, even if he turns you away. Sufism is a state in which the conditions of humanity disappear. Sufism is a blazing lightning bolt.

–Quoted in Sufism: An essential introduction to the philosophy and practice of the mystical tradition of Islam, by Carl W. Ernst, PhD)

Enjoy a short clip of Whirling Dervishes dancing the sema below. A quick note about the sema, or Dervish dance. The Dervishes (or semazens) and begin twirling. This represents the birth of humanity. The sikke is the slender earth-colored headdress which symbolises the tombstone of the ego. The hırka is the long black cloak representing the tomb. The tennure is the full skirted long gown depicting the shroud. As the dervishes enter the circle their arms are crossed across their chest. In this position they signify the oneness of God. During the sema their arms are extended with the right hand opened upward, receiving from God, and the left hand turned downward, giving to humanity and keeping nothing for themselves.

And now, I close with a little quote from Hafiz:

“A poet is someone
Who can pour Light into a spoon,
Then raise it to nourish
Your beautiful parched, holy mouth.”

Be sure to check out the video below for a small glimpse into the sema ritual.

Or an even better one here (which I couldn’t embed).

Istanbul Day 4 (part 1): Hamam heaven

I didn’t take any pictures on Day 4, because cameras weren’t allowed in either of the two places we went. The first place Leanna, Patreshia, and I went to was a hamam, or Turkish bath. We headed to Çemberlitaş Hamam, the second most famous hamam in Istanbul (also in the Sultanahmet region). According to the website, the bath was established by Nurbanu Sultan (I haven’t heard of her either), wife of Selim II and mother of Murat III, for the purpose of bringing in revenue to support a local charity. The bath was built in 1584, and has sides for both men and women.

Patreshia and Leanna were both REALLY hesitant to go. They’d both gone to hamams either in their home town or some other smaller, less professional/touristic facility. Leanna, with her pale skin, blue eyes, and light blonde hair, had been stared at so much she couldn’t handle the intense attention again. Both had also been scrubbed as if they were being punished for something, and niether had been impressed with the overall hygiene as well (the towels smelled “used” for example).

Well, I was determined. So, I dragged them there and we had a great time. We entered the entry room of the women’s section (which had been recently restored) and were surrounded by marble columns and wooden benches. After changing into our towels, we then went into the bathing area, technically, the hamam. The entire surface of the hamam was warm marble that could almost burn your feet if you didn’t wear the slippers they handed out to you. There were several fountains along the smooth, marble walls where you could bathe yourself with metal bowls; there were two hot pools in a back room, and then a large, flat circular stone in the middle of the room, known as the göbek tasi (navel stone). The göbek tasi was built over a wood or coal furnace that then heated the rest of the hamam.

Women laid on the göbek tasi and waited until the attendant called them over. Turkish women in their bras and panties, their hair tied up in messy bundles, scrubbed our bodies down with the loofah scrubs we’d been given at the entrance. They had this amazing technique where they could create a pillow-sized mass of bubbles and then scrub you down (yes, we’re either naked or in underwear). As I usually do in saunas, I got totally overheated, so I couldn’t last long, but it was lovely and cleansing, and felt like an official baptism into my life in Turkey.

You can check out images from the actual hamam on their website, here.

Istanbul Day 3: Ferry Fun

Pictures of our ferry trip down the Boshporus. A lovely adventure.

Istanbul: The Second Day–Sultanahmet sweetness

Here are pictures of my second day in Istanbul. We went to the Sultanahmet region and toured around that section of the peninsula. While I didn’t go inside Tokapi or Hagia Sophia (because I’ll be here again in October), I did go inside the Blue Mosque, and had some good exploring with my friends.

The pictures weren’t as great as I hoped they’d be because the light was terrible: overcast and cloudy all day, which muted everything. But hopefully they capture at least a piece of the beauty.

Enjoy!

Istanbul: The Preface

Most of you probably didn’t know it, but until Saturday night, most of your Islamic neighbors were fasting for Ramazan. At sundown in Turkey on Saturday night, the last night of Ramazan, all practicing Turks broke their Ramazan fast with the three-day Bayram holiday. Most cities closed up shop, restaurants closed, people left town to go home to be with their families and celebrate. Since I knew nothing would be going on here, I headed up to Istanbul to spend time with a friend of mine who was staying there.

I’ve decided to make my trip to Istanbul into separate posts by day, with separate slide shows. I took the overnight bus to get there, a ten-hour trip, broken by two stops where they forced us to wake up and walk around in a rest stop for a half hour. The rest stops are pretty cool though, I must say, because they have little cafes to eat at, lots of locally-crafted food like honey, preserves, and dried fruits, and people making fresh Turkish delight. They’re also clean and very well-lit, which is always fun when you’re stumbling out of a bus and your eyes haven’t adjusted to light.

But I digress. I stayed in Istanbul with my friend Leanna, one of my American counterparts, who is based in a much more conservative city in the east called Ezurum. She decided to stay in Istanbul and study Turkish before she began her second year at her post, and so I came and crashed in her itty-bitty little apartment. Another counterpart, Patreshia from Denizli, came as well, and we all enjoyed the weekend together. Here’s a picture of the three of us (Patreshia, Leanna, then me) at our first dinner in Istanbul, a very special meal I’ll tell you about in the next post.