Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Civil War Reenactments


This year marks the 150th anniversary of America's "War Between the States" (not the "Civil War" according to the Prussian General actor at one reenactment). Unlike perhaps other countries who hold moments of silence for their some 500,000 who died in war, Americans like to celebrate the history and symbolism of this war by reenacting it.

As one dear friend said, "A sitting African-American President from Illinois (who sounds more and more Lincolnesque) at the same time of Civil War Reenactments. Strange times indeed." And rightly said. At a time in American history where we have powerful blacks, women, minorities, Southerners, Northerners, and many troops on ground abroad fighting very bloody wars, you would think Americans would not feel a need to constantly celebrate the Civil War, but they do.



My sister, inspired by a book, Confederates in the Attic, by Tony Horwitz, decided to do her senior project exploring Civil War Reenactments. First top? Lewisburg, West Virginia. During this particular May weekend, reenactors would carry out a four day "living history" extravaganza.

Now, Lewisburg has been voted the "coolest small town in America" by travel magazines. It has quirky little shops, yoga, homeopathic medicine, and tons of people who love to study the Confederates; very few think of themselves as Yankees, even though West Virginia, "Mountain Moma" as John Denver might say, seceded from Virginia in a disagreement over whether they should be Confederates or Yankees; one reenactor told me the disagreement was not over slaves, but overeconomy--the rich folk in the East were doing all the politicking while the poor white trash in the West were doing all the dying.

This is a trend in Civil War Reenactor Speech. As one Prussian General who fought on the side of the Confederates told me, the biggest misconception about the War Between the States was that, "Americans just want to put it on a bumper sticker, 'SLAVERY.' It was more than that. It was economy and states rights." Alright, economy in the South depended on slave labor (which of course New York and other cotton consuming industries depended on), but what rights were they trying to exert other than to keep their economies in healthy condition, to lower tariffs, and to keep the slaves that allowed them to have such labor intensive economies. One Black Soldier, from the 54th Massachusetts regiment claimed, "Slavery had NOTHING to do with the war. Not one thing." Then we asked if it had anything to do with moral, "Maybe. Sure you wanna go shoot the guy oppressing you, but we just wanted to be like everybody else. Not about slavery at all." I think you are feeling what I'm feeling right?

Indeed, aside from slavery, many reenactors place many of their own anxieties onto the war. The man playing General Lee assured us that if Lee were alive today, he would be part of the Tea Party. Because really, the rebel flag and Confederacy were exactly what American conservatism were today; anti-government, rebels with a cause of keeping the government out of their issues. Another man claimed he did reenactments because "The First thing that dies in war is the truth" and that we all had to read the other side to know "truth." I don't deny these things. Another man was very concerned about how youth learn history; his teachers had been very cruel to him in college with certain failing grades when he had to make a relative's funeral and couldn't make up the exam. He felt he was beloved by his students because of his stories and did reenactments to tell STORIES. He did have some really interesting stores too!

(temperance movement, at the irish pub of course)

Perhaps the strangest aspect is the frequency of such reenactments. One woman from Montana who used to work for the Department of Defense claimed she used to do just one a month, now spends almost every weekend in the spring and summer devoted to being different Confederate women, prostitutes, dames, abolitionists, and peacemakers. (While she was there, she led a temperance movement and threw all the guys out of the Irish Pub!) She said she liked it because it reminded her of a simpler time and life back home in Montana (though she assured us she saw some interesting things, like events leading up to the Fall of the Berlin Wall, or archaeology in Tel Aviv). She flashed in and out of personae, as if living multiple lives in multiple times and places.


The strangest thing is that all of the reenactors placed their own wishes, desires, doubts, frustrations, and hopes onto this war reenactment. Everything they hated about the government could somehow be in there. Everything they love about a certain lifestyle was suddenly manifest. Some men escaped their boring day jobs as mechanics, store cashiers, or high school students in small towns. Some women escaped their husbands for a little while and found other women doing the same. The war, the Rebel Cause, and the reenactment suddenly became a sort of escape, even despite being a symbol of suffering, division, slavery, and death. These "living historians" preached the truth, just like the Evangelical preacher at the Confederate Sunday Mass claimed. Everyone in the reenactments has their own truth; they choose when they die and when they resurrect (which is ultimately shouted at the end of skirmishes as well!). They choose what kind of history they approve of and which are too simple. (States rights and economy apparently do not go back to the issue of slavery at all, but each reenactor can tell you that the buttons on underwear at the time were made of animal bone, or that train tracks were standardized during the Civil War.)

All and all, this strange phenomenon in American history will be here for a long time. Perhaps as we sit here and dwell on how half a million lives were lost 150 years ago for economics, slavery, belief, propaganda, power, or rights, we should think of our own paranoia, angst, problems, shame, and concerns in an era of struggling economics, bipolarity, and division; let us not let history repeat itself except in a reenactment, on a hot summer day in Lewisburg, in 19th century garments.


Saturday, January 2, 2010

Creeping Evangelism

Last night, I almost peed my pants in fright in what I thought were the white lights of an alien invasion--which I saw out my window. Upon further inspection, which took a lot of bravery mind you, I deduced that these were the lights of a new steeple in an Evangelist Baptist church, three hills away from my home hill.

The lights are creeping in.

Perhaps as punishment for my apparent liberalism (I go to Yale), I come home to churches that turn me away three times: once at the parking lot, once at the door, and once at the chapel door. Yet, While I'm not turned away by my sins (I hope not), I'm turned away by the sheer fact that the place is overcrowded. Game over. Asimov's population scheme has counted me out. I didn't jump on the mothership in time so now I'm stuck at the doors, while the lights keep teasing me with their LEED glare.

It seems that when I go to Yale, I'm a conservative. I come home, and suddenly I get phone calls from local churches telling me to find Christ because apparently, I haven't. I can find him without standing outside of your doors. I found my Christ reading the Torah, the OT and NT, and the Qu'ran. If you want to throw in the Book of Mormon, you can. Do I really need another Christ?

But dude, guess who was voted most likely to become a televangelist in high school? moi. I have a fascination with these networks. Mormons. Muslims. TV Evangelists. Sufis. Faith Healers. Evangelists. This past week one of the famous Tele-vangelists, Oral Roberts, died. Defining the Word on the Tube is thanks to this guy. Thousands came to the funeral. These guys are not just brilliant speakers, but excellent business men. If there is something more American than tele-vangelism, someone tell me.

So as my East coast life become more and more riddled with the thoughts of "Socialists" (see the conservative side of the family...), my mid-Atlantic life is slowly being surrounded by steeples that refuse entry... because of fire codes. (or maybe the "liberalism" i'm around, but don't necessarily ascribe to).

Call the death of Oral Roberts the death of a generation, of a movement. I'm not sure about that.I almost backed into the window of the "Christian Evangelist Economic Expansion Center" today. Apparently they "Spread the celery seed." I almost spread their celery seed alright...





Sunday, July 19, 2009

A Snapshot of Kosovo on 12 hours of Sleep... in 4 days

I am broken. The struggle bus has a flat tire. I am officially going to my bed and praying the sheets are not going to make me break out in a rash. 

But all this aside. I am more excited and inspired than I have been since.... well maybe ever. 

Why? My experience in Kosovo. 

I will go into this later, but I wanted to leave my community with a glimpse of the people, the nation, the spirit, and the nature of this self proclaimed "Newborn" country. 

Flying back on a delayed jet, with no working camera, and little sleep, with a pilot who was probably a fighter jet pilot at some point by the barrel turns we made, I was seated next to a Turkish/ Albanian looking guy. He did not have the typical "Former Republic of Yugoslavia" look about him. He grabbed a Turkish newspaper and politely sat a seat away from me. He offered me chewing gum after our meal and that broke the ice (this is a trick I always use!) Turns out his father was Turkish but his mother was Albanian. He was living in Prishtina with his family. His wife is Bulgarian and their son's name is Edward. He owns two toystores. One in Prishtina and one in Istanbul. He traded in Istanbul and Hong Kong. His dream is to open a Toys "Rooys" or Toys 'R Us in Kosovo. He worked for 10 years without much money but the past 3 years have made it up. He is fluent in Albanian and Turkish, with decent English. He may have a Turkish passport, but he loves Kosovo as his own country and loves American for what it has done there and what it represents: multicultural, multifaith, strong democracy, entrepreneurial values. 

After four days of meeting with the ministers of this country (most under 30, as 70% of the pop is under 30), young business people from all over Europe with JADE Junior Enterprise Network, and witnessing Kosovo, this story is a great picture of what Kosovo is becoming and is: multicultural, multifaith, a recent democracy, with stronger entrepreneurial instincts than what most American have. Plus they love American--Bill Clinton street intersects with Mother Teresa Street in the center of town. 

Welcome to the best kept secret in political science, business, and the developing, post-conflict world. That no one knows about. 

Now we do.


Monday, July 13, 2009

Adventure into Kurd Land: An Account in Photos

I had one of the most amazing weekends of my life. 

Yes, ladies and gents. I ventured into what I will call "Kurd land" --South East Anatolia. Yes, this is the same ethnic group in Northern Iraq that is fighting (sometimes very violently) for autonomy. I took my trusted co-worker Edgar, and two yalie friends, Lynda and Pawel on this journey. 

My itinerary is as follows: 
Friday: Fly to Urfa. Spend time there. Midnight drive North to Nemrut Dagi for Sunrise. 
Saturday: Nemrut at Sunrise, travel south to Urfa. Travel to Mardin via Diyarbakir (known as the "capital" of the Kurds) 
Sunday: Mardin then Hasankeyf. Spend the night with "Doga" or "Nature" NGO
Monday: Hasankeyf, Batman, and Diyarbakir before flying back to Istanbul 

Because the experience is more personal and definitely in my journal, I will show some select pictures to you to explain some salient points. 

URFA: Pictured above you see part of Urfa, one of the most religious cities in Turkey. My friends, I spent most of my day veiled. The call to prayer here is mystifying and powerful, as it should be for the birthplace of the prophet Abraham. Pictured here is the cave where he was born. Urfa had a unique effect on me: It was a farmer's town but also a salvage town of flea markets. Everyone had a moustache. It smelled like my bubby's house. In some odd way, I felt like I was revisiting my childhood and reinvestigating where I came from, on so many levels. 



NEMRUT DAGI: Built in 62 BC, these statues of Greek, Persian, and Armenian Gods watch the sunrise everyday. I wanted to as well. So after calling up a travel company, we soon found ourselves driving through Kurdish countryside for 5 hours on back roads at midnight. Our driver, Yousef, was just about the craziest and most popular guy in the industry (which is tiny...not many international tourists come here). He had limericks and rhymes and nicknames for each of us. I was "Princess Diana Danielle Topatin." Apparently we were going to Mexico with him... Anyways. Nemrut Dagi to me was the most... well. I am lost for words. There are somethings that cannot and should not be described. I refused to take pictures of the sunrise itself (a sort of primordial soup that looked like the earth and sky were one, with a scar of red bleeding through the center), but found more interest in the awe of man. What is truly amazing is our reverence for nature. The fact that I climbed a mountain at 3 AM in FREEZING cold weather to see this is one thing. The sunrise itself is inexplicable. However, the fact that someone wanted to build a tomb or a monument up there in respect for nature--now that is inspiring. 
Yousef also took us on more excursions to see Greek, Roman, Persian, Seljuk, and Ottoman ruins. Here I'm just climbing on a rock. Yes, that is a steep drop..... The little bugger, for 60+ years old was spry. Being that we were in bible land, he also took us to swim in the Euphrates. I discovered a love for apricots with him. 

We got to Mardin, eventually (the bussing there... checkpoints because of Kurd/Turkish tension, kinda scary). It is a beautiful city on a hill. Perfect defense strategy because you could see so far into the distance, it looked like the earth and the sky were one. However, I can't say the same about the place we stayed. the walls were falling into the mountain side and the shower did not work. That said, I had a goodnight sleep there. We had an excellent dinner at a restaurant actually owned by a woman--the first I have seen outside of Istanbul. Normally men do the cooking. These pictures don't do the city justice. Look it up online. It is such an amazing city....


Next to Hasankeyf. My friends at TOG hooked me up with an NGO there called "Doga" or "Nature." They are trying to save Hasankeyf from the flooding the dam building will cause. Luckily, it stopped this past Wednesday! Hasankeyf it basically a city of caves along water. One of the most beautiful and untouched sites I have ever seen. The city only has one motel, but we stayed in the "Nature house" instead. Hence the inflatable couch you see--where I slept instead of the bed: I like couches more. It was a concrete building with plastic table clothes on the roof, but it was so quaint. Hasankeyf is only like 2,000 people and many have parents who used to live in the cave. The city dates back before Christ and has an amazing castle on a cliff--where I am standing, overlooking an old bridge. The river is the Tigris. So YES, I swam in BOTH the Tigris and Euphrates river. We joked that if we were carried away by the current, call Baghdad and warn them we will be there soon... Hasankeyf taught me about temperance, about living a life of happiness, simplicity, good fruit, and doing things when they need to be done. Live a good healthy life for your body--and don't be afraid to have a cigarette at 2 AM to get the mosquitos away..... 

The next day we had breakfast in a cave and set out for Batman to go to Diyarbakir. We eventually get to Diyarbakir and tour the old Ulu Camii in the 43 degree celsius heat, or 109 degrees F. IT WAS HOT. We are eventually won over by an English/Spanish/turkish/Kurdish speaker outside of the mosque. I knew he was selling carpets. He took us in for chai a street over. Soon I was haggling for carpets. The one guy, Hasan, pictured above worked for ABC and NBC as a Kurdish translator. He showed me business cards of the men he worked with and how he does an international rug trade. Kurdish rugs are quite a different game. Apparently business has soured with recent conflict, but he loves the adventure it provides. We became great friends and I basically stole the rug I liked from him: a medium size on for my dorm room, half carpet, half kilim, made by nomad around 50 years ago. This place had OLD rugs... Not a SINGLE tourist in site. Who goes to the capital of the Kurds for vacation? Not even the Turks....  We also went to an Assyrian Church (not Orthodox under Batholomew) of like 30 people. The church was built in the 1100s and the people still worship there speak Aramaic... AMAZING. 

So all in all this was an adventure. THERE IS SO MUCH MORE TO TELL YOU I HAVE ONLY SCRATCHED THE 1%. I will stop though and you just have to ask me questions..... So many coincidences, so many experiences. So many thoughts. I loved this area. I feel in culture shock now.

BTW: MY RASH IS FROM MY DETERGENT! Yay for figuring that one out.... 


Wednesday, June 24, 2009

On Being Muslim: By Danielle

If I were a Muslim, I probably would not be a good one in terms of following the lifestyle rules. (i.e. I'm having a glass of red wine with the dinner I just cooked for myself--YES, I COOKED MOM!) 

That said, I have never ceased to be amazed by Islam. It is a religion of unity, peace, coherence, logic, love, faith, and dedication. When I wake up to the reading of the Qu'ran, or hear it the other four times a day by the muezzin near my house, I am mystified. The proclamation, "GOD IS GREAT" almost calls me to my knees in prayer as well. Sometimes it does. 

So I was on a mission to further my education in Islam. Last year in Cairo I did the necessary washings and prayers every Friday afternoon (except during periods) with the el-Kadi family (think Sunday mass for Christians). This year, I wanted to continue the tradition. Problem: I work on Fridays. You don't get Friday-Saturday off in Turkey. Its Sat-Sun. So. I e-mailed my Muslim Life Coordinator at Yale to help me find some knowledgeable and trustworthy Muslims in Istanbul to help me learn more about the details of Islam in Istanbul. He put me in touch with some friends. So on Sunday afternoon, I learned more about Islam. (After cooking Crepes of course--without measuring cups and baking powder. Delicious)


Don't get all nervous now, family. I took trusted Edgar along as my "bodyguard." We met up at Starbucks with Sinan and his wife, sister-in-law, and two friends who just moved to Istanbul. All of the women wore hijab (or headscarf). They took me to old parts of Istanbul that I would not have seen otherwise. Going to a different part of Istanbul is like going to a different country....

Eyup Sultan: Half a Hajj
First we went to Eyup Sultan, the burial place of a standard bearer of Mohammad and a sacred place for Muslims. Going there is like doing "half a hajj" I am told (Hajj is the pilgrimage to Mecca all Muslims must do as part of their 5 pillars--just FYI). So we go. I wore a long dress and long sleeves. When I get there, I am not with other western tourists---only Muslim tourists, especially soon-to-be-married couples and people with their soon-to-be-circumcised sons. As soon as I enter the premises, I must cover my head--not only in the mosque. 

I want to interject a thought about the headscarf. Wearing it is exotic to me, transforming, a becoming (lots of participles...). To Edgar too, the transformation was eerie. One gets a new impression of that person, who they are, and questions of why they veil. What do you think? Comments? 

When I went into the mosque, I went up a winding stairwell to the second floor (because as you know, larger mosques separate women from men). Women do not have an obligation to pray in the mosques as men do, so there tend to be more men praying in public mosques. I sit and chat with them as Sinan's wife does her prayers that the other two women had done at home. As far as etiquette goes, we all walk far behind praying women--something I never did before in Egypt. Upon leaving the mosque, we walk up hill and I remove the scarf. 

Cemeteries and Pierre Lotti 
In Istanbul, they build their cemeteries on hills overlooking the water. Each tomb, dating back to the Ottoman era, has a tall marker. The ones with round markers or hats are for important politicians, Sinan tells me. As we walk up the hill, Sinan tells me about extensive Turkish history, as well as tenants of Islam. He recites Suras from the Qu'ran sometimes as he passes along a particularly important tomb. We talk about finding me some Tajwid lessons---i.e. how to "call out" the Qu'ran, which is a real art in and of itself. We talk about Islam in general. A special place dedicated to Pierre Loti--a French explorer and writer--is on top of the hill. He wrote some great works on Turkey back in the day. 

Mosques
After, more mosques. We go to one built by the great architect Sinan (the same who built the Hamam I went to)--but it is under renovation. So we go to another near Istanbul University. There, I do not pray because I have not done the necessary abolutions. While I am waiting for others to finish the 5 o'clock prayer, I listen to the Imam and get lost in his voice (I am later told he is the best in Istanbul). Something about hearing the Qu'ran gives me chills. I want to pray. I need to pray. The word of Allah is spectacular--while reading it, you are listening to it. While listening to it, somewhere in your soul, it is being read. The relationship I have with those words and poetry never ceases to amaze me. While I am waiting as well, Sinan's sister in law helps me wrap my scarf better around my head--I'm a novice clearly. 

Afterwards, we wander through a Bazaar where they buy a Qu'ran for me (with English translation--not considered the Qu'ran, but it helps!) We also take photos at Istanbul University as I explain my interest in the relationships between ritual, religion, theater, life, sociology, and economics. It really all comes together.... 

So ON BEING MUSLIM
This is a question too large for me to answer in many ways. Yet when it comes down to it, I am in love with Islam as a tolerant, accepting, wholesome way of life. It really does think of everything from inheritance to the importance of diet and meditation. While some think this is too strict, at least it offers the guidelines. Especially in Turkey, people take religion as something intensely personal--which I respect and admire. This is how I view it too. It is not as institutionalized as say, Egypt (where your religion is on your ID card), but much more about you and God. Islam is about you, God, and the community. Which I love. And at core, isn't that what religion in the Judeo-Christian sense is about anyways? 

So while I am not about to give up my wine with dinner, I will certainly continue my study and practice in prayer method--which thanks to them, I also learned more about. Yes, there is a "way" to pray. And let me tell you. It works. 




Saturday, June 20, 2009

Born Again Muslims?

Whirling Dervish shows are a dime a dozen in Istanbul (or 30 Pounds if you want to see the "official" one near the Galata tower, organized by the Contemporary Lovers of Mevlana Rumi--EMAV). However, some people still worship Mevlana Rumi's teachings under the Mevlevi order--a mystical Sufi sect of Islam. My mission? Find them. 

MYSTICAL?? HOLD UP. That is what my mother said too. Of course mysticism has a bad rap to many, but mysticism is by no means about shaking pot in one's face and doing witchcraft. Don't worry mom. This is not what I did Thursday night. 

I found myself the Contemporary Lovers of Mevlana Rumi online and a few e-mails later, I was in touch with Carole, who offered to meet Edgar (my brother...) and I to take us to her place of worship. 

Now, I did my back research before meeting an older American woman from Michigan, holding three roses who recently had a stroke in front of a McDonalds in Taksim. The Contemporary Lovers of Mevalana Rumi (EMAV for short) are actually aided by the government and earn lots of tourist $$ by holding performances near the Galata Tower--the old Sufi Mausoleum. Their Spiritual Leader, Hasan Dede, has raised Ataturk to Sainthood and is quite the TV face. Already, you are getting the feel that this is almost like a vogue Jerry Falwell? 

So Carole, bless her soul, takes us on a bus to her EMAV center. On the way, she tells us she has been in Istanbul for 26 years. The first 6 years, she didn't know what she was doing, then 20 years ago, she met Hasan Dede and "knew what she was doing." She always mentioned Hasan Dede, her "spiritual master" as if he was Jesus Christ himself. After traveling down back alleys where kids were playing ball, we get to the EMAV center, built three years. ago. 

Immediately, we meet Hasan Dede, who I am led to sort of kneel to as he blesses me. Everyone rises when Hasan Dede enters or leaves. Hasan Dede looks like a car salesman, not a spiritual leader. The cleanliness strikes me first. Someone cleans a lawn chair off for me. We sit and read a pamphlet made by EMAV members. Later, we remove our shoes to go into a new building with nice carpet, wood, and pictures of Ataturk and Rumi. 

The demographic is mixed though. The guy slicing your doner (or Gyro meat) is there, but also some very nice jewelry is around. Trust me, this kind of felt like one of those large Christian Congregations with microphones, new HomeDepot architecture, and an old man preaching from the floor on his sheepskin with his water, mints, and prayer beads at his side. Followers set their cell phones and diabetes pumps (yes...) in front to record him speaking. The Qu'ran sat on a shelf, unreachable 

Before I go on, you should know some things about EMAV....

A CRASH COURSE IN HOW TO BE A CONTEMPORARY LOVER OF MEVLANA RUMI (Thanks to my Spiritual Talks of Hasan Dede Book, for 5 Turkish Pounds at the center... hmmm)

Q: Who is Mevlana Rumi? 
A: Rumi was a 13th century Persian poet and philosopher. His teachings and Mystical Sufi spiritual practices were so influential, that his son continued the Sufi Order. Rumi was considered one of the most popular poets in America--according to wikipedia... 

Q: What are some basic Mevlevi principles? 
A: Mevlana teaches that God created the world and human beings and created HImself within the humans. He says, "Whatever you want, want from yourself because you are everything." Love between humans and God and Mevlana (who is everywhere) is the basic idea. LOVE and self perfection. Mevlana are famous for their Sema which is the Whirling Dervish Ritual, where anyone can whirl for the "burning love to become one with God." Contemporary lovers of Mevlana must follow Hasan Dede.... 

Q: Who is Hasan Dede? 
A: He is a Macedonian who moved to Istanbul and fell in love with Sufism. He trained with another Mevlevi Sheikh, Hakki Dede. later, Hasan Dede became the representative of Mevlana. He has the red sheepskin used in the Sema. Basically, he sold Mevlani to the world and raised Ataturk to Sainthood. Because he can. Because he is Hasan Dede. (All rise when he is in the room). Resembles a sort of local politician/car salesman. Wears gold and silk (no no's in Islam).

Q: Are Mevlani Moslems? 
A: They regard themselves as Moslems, but they do not read the Qu'ran. Instead, they read Mevlana's books, which can be translated into many languages. It is the "living Qu'ran, which is better"--as Carole said. 

Q: Do Mevlani follow Mohammad? 
A:They follow all prophets and combine all of the Judeo-Christian prophets, kinda like Ba'hai shall we say.  "The Ex. Mevlana himself was the Ex. Mohammed of his time [...] With Mohammed the book of prophethood was closed; and the book of sainthood was opened." 

Q: Wait, weren't Mevlevi's made illegal under Ataturk? 
A: More of less. A law passed under the nationalist movement in 1925 closed all Dervish lodges. Sufist names and clothing were also banned. Instead, one of these lodges was made into a museum. Later in the 1950s, (when Hasan Dede came to town), they were allowed to perform once a week. In the 1970s, the Mevlevi could go west again and act more. Today, they are permitted to practice and travel the world. They have raised Ataturk to sainthood and his picture is next to Mevlana himself in the EMAV center... 

_____________________________________________________________

Okay, so after Hasan Dede spoke for an hour and a half, we had Zikir, the liturgy. 

Men and women, seated opposite from each other pray together. I covered my head for Zikir. They begin with the "Bismillah---" Arabic intro to prayer that all Muslims use. Then they go into a sort of their own "Fatiha" or main prayer. Carole told me to "be comfortable" before this. Some people might have been startled by the repeated "ALLAH ALLAH ALLAH" and swaying of the kneeling congregation. It was kind of like a Shaker ritual ceremony that I had practiced... This lasted for about 15 minutes. Most it was Turkish, some was Arabic (because of a visiting Sufist order).

Next, we had tea and cookies.  Of course.

After, we had the Sema or the Dervish Ceremony. Hasan Dede was dressed in the biggest hat and entered the room to sit on the ceremonial sheepskin. A wooden circle on the floor is uncovered previously. More semazens enter in black. After "acknowledging each other" in a sort of "Encounter" if you will, then acknowledging the space, as they pace in a circle. Music from the balcony has started. Then, they remove their black robes (both men AND women) and with the blessing of Hassan Dede (and his successor... who kind of looks like Bono), they beginning whirling. They do this four times. 

I love the Sema. It is beautiful. It is not ecstatic, like some Shaker ritual (like the ones I did in that play in high school where I got a concussion from my "ecstasy".....). It is level headed, or as level headed as you can be with such dizziness. It should not be spinning uncontrollably. There is something very regulated, very orderly, and very defined about the ritual. Each person was in this space and another space, with their environment--in out and beyond, with each other, with Hasan Dede, and with God. 

 Now, though I got a weird feeling that these people were like "Born Again Muslims" who have discovered some meaning in life and are led by an old man who looks like he would be selling shoes not god, I look back and rescind this "negativity." I do respect them. They are a peaceful people who have found meaning in life. This uneasiness that I felt and maybe preach in my writing here is a product, perhaps, of that a-religious "Amurrican" within, who might be a little skeptical of following anyone. That said, I really respect and admire their dedication to music, to history, to love, to beauty, and to God. I thank them for their hospitality and their honesty.

On the way back, we hitched a ride in a bus with an American/Finnish tour group of people who were celebrating the American's 70th birthday. He wanted to see the Mevlevi too...    

I'm sure I'll talk more about the EMAV in the future. This is only the surface of my experience....

Monday, June 8, 2009

Interjection: My Intellectual Sexy Time

Pardon the sketch title, but I honestly cannot describe my academic and pseudo-spiritual euphoria right now. 

In lieu of discussing the summit today, I am going to jump ahead to the future of my narrative, i.e. the past: today. 

After a lovely day at Toplum, working and making some entrepreneurial connections and chatting with the founder (as well as preparing for the Gala on Wednesday... C-List celebrities and paparazzi much!), I did some Taksim exploring with Edgar, my lovely co-worker. 

Now there are some things you need to know about my current life and mental state. 
1) I am working with Edgar, who is a lot like me, yet nothing like me. While we are both, shall we say... bold? he is more direct while my style is more sublimated. We both do what we want though and say what we feel. Thank god. Edgar, while being a Salvadorian powerhouse, is also the kind of intellectual and literary expert who could kick your ass in anything. MUNTY much? As a result, our conversations are charged with---well, not intellectual masturbation--but some sort of sincere academic intensity, always with the Hyperbole lock ON. 
2) I am reading a lot of Buber, I-Thou, Utopia kind of things (Campanella too). Not to mention writings on Political theology, World Bank summaries on Education, Turkish and Ottoman history, and... of course... the Qu'ran. 
3) I drink about 12 cups of tea a day. 

Naturally, my mental state is biting, sharp, intellectual to the extreme, and informed--a sort of A-Game I haven't felt since maybe my Donne essay in High school. So, you can only imagine what I felt when walking through Taksim, the heart of the city, and then I find an old antique book store. 

At Denizler Kitabevi, the Pearl of the Pera (www.denizlerkitabevi.com) They sell maps, pins, rare books, and they had a kickass old version of Madame Bovary in the original French (Edgar liked it more--I detest Madame Bovary). 

And guess what I find? Just imagine my two favorite things in a single book. 

Modern Egyptian Drama ed. Farouk Abdel Wahab. 

Yes my friends, everything I love in one. The introduction was so fabulous that I read the entire thing while holding my 15 pound laptop bag. The owner eventually said, "I'm going to have to charge you more if you like that so much." In response, I said, "Well, I hate this book and want nothing to do with it." "Okay, for that, I give you discount." 

We became friends. Turns out he taught himself Ottoman Turkish at the age of 45. His best friend is head of Harvard's Middle Eastern Studies Department. This guy is connected and intelligent. He gave me his business card (as many Turkish people do---I LOVE business cards) and he invited to show me some of the old maps they have (along with cigars and tea). Honestly, this place is a diamond in the rough.

At that moment, I wanted to just stay in Turkey for part of my life, studying Ottoman Turkish, Persian Drama, and Islam, sit on a balcony and watch people go by as I drink 15 teas and 5 turkish coffees a day with some baklava, write about what I see and think and then go to Cairo and do it there. 

So what do I do after my academic, spiritual, life encounter? I walk down narrow streets of amazing stringed instruments, run into an arts fair (with rich hipsters galore), share some wine Edgar bought and muse on my future as a leading expert in Utopian philosophy/history, Arab Drama and Islam.  

I love Istanbul. 

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Thank You Spencer Krug

"He was a man of many nations, of revelations, oh revelations."
-The Mending of the Gown by the Sunset Rubdown

With an invocation, thanks to Spencer Krug, I begin my Travel(b)log for this summer, and beyond. Yes, I have big hopes to keep it focused on the interactions I encounter with faith, globalization (at risk of taking Tony Blair's idea), people, politics, and places/spaces. However, like travel, blogs cannot necessarily be branded with a destination before they begin. Keep your eyes open for afore mentioned themes though.

So why am I keeping a travel blog? Where is she going you ask? Well my dear friends, colleagues, family, and unknown cyber readers, I am embarking on a journey with the following itinerary :

-NYC -> Brussels -> Geneva -> Istanbul (throw some Ankara and Athens in there on my own time?)

Props to Yale and a certain generous Mr. Barry for making this possible. Of course I'm sure there will be side trips and adventures as I being my work to network (and mentor) student NGO's around Europe and the Middle East thanks to the Ivy Europe-Middle East Conference I co-chaired, as well as an Internship with Toplum Gönüllüleri. I'll avoid the tedious where and whens and leave them for when they are there and then.

Aside from my work, I would like to say I am going to have some sort of revelation, just like any other (wander)lusty traveler of my age and disposition. Hence why I began this blog with the all holy Spencer Krug song quote. Okay, I partially lied. As much as I want to have revelations, I would like to witness them even more--perhaps in my research on Turkish Sufism or with the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew (oh please come through with this connection Father/Brother/Uncle Timothy!). To avoid getting your hopes up (or mine) with my religious daydreams, I'll stop now and leave this for a there and then.

I hope for this blog to be more professional as time goes on, when I have real stories and concepts to share. (In the mean time, let me --try-- to entertain you. I'm having fun if that is any consolation.)

To avoid spouting more cliches or unnecessary information, I'll sign off now and begin my global fashion blog. Which you should also follow.

Peace. Pax. Salaam.
D