Day 21, Sunday -
Saint Savior in Chora, Mihrimah Sultan & Suleymaniye Mosques, ride up the Bosphorus
The next day we took a taxi to Karyi Cami Mosque near the city walls. This was originally Saint Savior in Chora (country), but was converted to a mosque after the conquest. Now, it is a museum. The Turks kept the church because the main room is decorated in marble rather than mosaic icons. The vestibule, however is covered with both frescos and mosaics. They depict the lineage of Christ and the birth of Mary. This church depicts the immaculate conception of Mary, a belief no longer held by the Orthodox church. The best fresco was the salvation of Adam and Eve from Hell by Christ after his crucifixion. In a separate attached section to the right of the main church is an area which once contained the tombs of the family that built this church. The tombs were destroyed by the Turks, but most of the art work decorating the ceiling above is still intact.
While I was admiring this art work, a Greek family came by and said hello to me in English. The father of the group told me I looked like a Greek from Greece rather than a Greek-American because my skin was dark olive brown and not white. After three weeks I had gotten quite a sun tan. Only my clothes give me away as an American. I showed him the skin underneath my shirt sleeve to assure him that I was still white where the sun hadn't been.
We met a Greek tour given in English. The tour guide was very knowledgeable. He said that the marble decorating the church interior was made of single slabs split in two to create symmetry. He said they did the same thing with the blue marble floor of Saint Sophia which gave it the appearance of waves emanating from the center outward. Apparently the Turks had taste when it came to this church. Instead of white wash, they covered up the religious art with doors that were occasionally opened for viewing by foreign dignitaries.
We walked to the Theodosian walls at Feuzi Pasa street just a block from the church. We came to the gate known as the Cemetery gate. Here Memhet the Conqueror entered the city of Constantinople for the first time in 1453 after his troops broke through the walls. As we went through the gate, we realized the wall was 10 to 20 feet wide and 30 to 40 feet high. Before the Turkish conquest, it surrounded the entire city. Although it has fallen due to disrepair in some sections, it was in tact here. On the outside of the gate are the Christian and Moslem cemeteries. Most of the Christian graves, Greek and Armenian, dating to 200 A.D. were only recently destroyed to make room for Sauaklar street just outside the gate.
We continued to walk south toward Mihrimah Sultan mosque built by Sinan, believed to be a converted Greek originally named Christopoulos. Just as we got sight of the mosque, I saw a little boy peering from behind an iron gate and a high stone wall. Instantly I knew from his eyes that he was Greek, not Turkish. I spoke a few words in Greek and a woman who spoke English let us in. It turned out to be a church called Saint George. She said that the original site of Saint George was on the hill across the street where the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque now stands. The church was razed to build the mosque as a gift for the sister (daughter?) of Mehmet the Conqueror in 1455. The present site, on the low ground, was given to the Greeks as a consolation. The current building dates from that time. It is quite inconspicuous. The Turks have not allowed Greeks to build a domed church since the conquest. The girl who showed us the church said there were still 150 Greek churches in Constantinople.
We finally went to Mihrimah Sultan Mosque, but it was not impressive. Maybe it was the story I had just heard about Saint George, but all these mosques were starting to look a lot alike. As we walked out we saw two coffins ready for a funeral service.
We took a taxi to Suleymaniye Mosque. In the courtyard we found the Sultan's tomb, along with that of his favorite sultana, Roxanne. Sultan Suleyman the Magnificent took the Ottoman Empire all the way to the gates of Vienna. The empire reached its military peak in his reign. Unfortunately, he killed all his rivals for the throne including several sons. As a result, the next sultan was mentally retarded.
Inside the mosque were beautiful stained glass windows. There was a service going on so Pam and I stood discretely in the back. There was a short fence which segregated the women from the men. Only the men were allowed in the center, inside the fence. The interior was fairly dark and was lit by a huge iron chandelier which circled around the entire room. With my tripod up and camera set for time exposure, I was able to take a photograph of the service.
From here we went to pier 4 at Galata bridge and bought two tickets for the 1:30 p.m. ferry ride up the Bosphorus which links the Sea of Marmora (Pontus) to the Black Sea. Everybody told us to do this. They forgot to tell us that all the Turks do it too. The boat had standing room only. To us everyday has been a holiday, so we didn't consider that Sunday might be busier than a weekday. On board they served tea, yogurt, and chocolate, but no Turkish coffee.
The shore lines of the Bosphorus are doted with many hills and bays. The terrain is far more rural than Istanbul, Pera or Galata. Many Greeks live in the villages along the northern-European shore. One of the first sights is the Dolmabahce palace with its white marble facade, built in 1853 to supplant Topkapi. We also saw a suspension bridge, the first to link Asia to Europe, built in 1973. Further on we saw Rumeli Hisari (1452) and Anadolu Hisari (1390) at the narrowest strait in the Bosphorus. Rumeli is situated on the northern, European or "Roman" shore while Anadolu is on the southern, Asian or Anatolian side. This is where the Persian King Darius crossed into Europe to invade Greece in 512 B.C. Mehmet the Conqueror built Rumeli to cut off food supplies to Constantinople. Numerous mosques and medieval fortresses can be found along the shores. Near the entrance to the black Sea, we also saw a Russian battle cruiser.
Almost everybody got off at the last stop, Anadolu Kavagi, on the Asian shore, several miles short of the Black Sea. At the summit of this town is a Genoese castle. We ate lunch here. The waiters spoke poor English, but a Turkish-American woman at the next table who lived in Ohio interpreted for us. On the way back, we met two students from Ann Arbor Michigan. The boy's name was Heinekin (like the beer). He was Dutch and his parents taught at the American school in Beirut Lebanon. His girlfriend was an American. They were hitch hiking their way from Amsterdam.
Athens, we decided to eat dinner in the hotel. While we were there, a Turkish engagement We went straight back to the Pera to rest before dinner. Since we had an early morning flight to party took up half the room.
The funny thing is, it could have been in Chicago. Some guy with a portable keyboard was playing American tunes in English. They got up to "dance", but it was free style. Dancing Turkish style means shuffling your feet back and forth while waving your hands in the air. The fathers of the betrothed couple danced together. They had an interesting custom. Each took money and pressed it against the head of the other. They looked like two middle aged men doing the Frug, a dance I hadn't seen since I went to high school sock-hops in the 1960's.
I guess you could boil down the difference between Turks and Greeks to this: Turks can't dance. They have no spark, no eccentricity, or developed sense of humor. They are a serious, straight forward, energetic, ambitious, and single minded people, but for the most part, they lack Greek charisma.
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