My Recommended Istanbul Itinerary

I've been pretty busy with studying for finals, or at least pretending to. But having been in Istanbul for a semester, I started thinking about how I would use my experience to condense Istanbul into a four-day, full time trip - the kind that you take as a tourist. This is my suggestion. The evening activities are largely (although completely) divorced from the daytime stuff. I wanted to include Istanbul modern, which is open late on Thursdays, so things should be shuffled around to accommodate that.

Day 1

Morning
Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia 9:00-11:00
Turkish and Islamic Arts Museum 11:00-1:00
Afternoon
Lunch at Poisedon 1:00 - 2:30
Shopping at the Grand Bazaar 2:30 - 3:30
Beyazit Square/Istanbul University 3:30 - 3:45
Suleymaniye Mosque 3:45 - 4:30
Egyptian Spice Bazaar 4:30 - 5:15
Evening
Istanbul Modern (open late on Thurs.) 5:45 - 7:45
Dinner at Cezayir 8:15 - 9:45

Day 2
Morning
Topkapi Palace 9:00 - 1:00
Afternoon
Lunch 1:00 - 2:00
Archaeology Museum 2:00 - 4:30
Basilica Cistern 4:30 - 5:00
Evening
Galata Tower 5:30 - 6:00
Wander Down Istiklal 6:00 - 7:00
Drinks at Mikla 7:00 - 7:45
Dinner at Sofyali 9 or Haci Abdullah 8:15 - 9:45

Day 3
Morning
Bosphorus Cruise to Sariyer 9:00 - 12:00
Afteroon
Lunch at Muzedechanga 12: 30 - 1:30
Sadberk Hanim Museum 1:30 - 3:30
Rumelian Castle 4:00 - 4:30
Evening
Ferry to Kadikoy on the Asian Side 5:00 - 5:30
Stroll on Baghdad Avenue 6:00 - 7:00
Dinner on Baghdad Avenue 7:00 - 8:30

Day 4
Afternoon
Dolmabahce Palace 10:00 - 12:00
Depart in the afternoon

Cairo

It's been over a week since I returned from Cairo, and I think I'm finally enjoying enough of a reprieve from midterms and papers to sit down and put my thoughts on Egypt on paper at length. As I'd previously mentioned, my main surprises at Cairo were, first, how historically rich the city was and, second, how socially conservative it was. My impression of Cairo before visiting was that, despite its long history as a cradle of civilization, the modern city of Cairo was something of a recent boomtown akin to say, Lagos or Jakarta or Mexico City. I expected a city that had a few pretty government buildings and historic mosques but was overwhelmingly littered with postwar concrete apartment blocs and ramshackle slums in a maze of poorly-planned and congested streets. At the same time, my preconceived notion of Egyptian culture and politics was based on the tradition of Nasser: a secular country that emphasized Arabism over Islamism as the foundation of its identity, even if that nationalism was a bit dated and had failed to provide much in the way of economic development. After all, Egypt is a secular state that recognizes Israel and maintains close ties with the US. I figured the portion of society that relied on Islam to define their identity and structure their life was basically the minority that supported the Muslim Brotherhood politically.

On the first account, I was very pleasantly surprised. Although Cairo doesn't date back as far as Istanbul or Damascus, it is still a historic city. Contemporary Cairo dates back to the Fatimids, a Muslim dynasty who established their capital in Cairo and ruled from 969 to 1171. Islamic Cairo, the oldest intact part of contemporary Cairo, is crowed with Fatimid mosques and is still surrounded on one side by a Fatimid city wall that's far better preserved than the Theodosian Walls in Istanbul. Also like in Istanbul, the city's center gradually drifted away from it's oldest quarter. In Istanbul, this happened somewhat organically, and resulted in a new center (north of the Golden Horn in Taksim) that is almost as tangled and labyrinthine as the old city. In Cairo, the contemporary downtown was constructed by Ismail Pasha, the ambitious modernizing king who ruled from 1863 to 1879. He was inspired by the grand boulevards in Paris that were constructed through the tangle of medieval alleys by Baron Haussmann at around the same time, from 1852 to 1870. Downtown Cairo is filled with wide, linear streets, public plazas, and nineteenth-century European architecture.

Unfortunately, while Cairo has the potential to be beautiful, that potential is rarely realized. I certainly did not expect Cairo to be an immaculately clean city, but I was surprised by the extent to which the once grand apartments are universally shabby, decaying, and in desperate need of renovation. My friends live across the street from an ornate mansion formerly occupied by the archaeologist who discovered the Rosetta stone, but now unoccupied and covered in graffiti. Although cultural attractions and some government buildings still remain, wealthy residences and many private businesses are fleeing for more distant quarters of the city. The constant filth in the street doesn't help, either. Cairo has no public trash cans. Instead, the streets are cleaned by a class of streat-cleaners known as Zebaleen. Cairenes simply throw their trash on the street and wait for someone else to sweep it up. It's a fascinating system that provides employment and a measure of social support for part of Cairo's underclass, and is ostensibly much more better than Western waste companies at recycling and reusing waste material. Needless to say, the system is grossly inefficient. It seems like it would make more sense to create public trash cans and a municipal waste collection authority, and employ the Zebaleen to power wash the inevitably sandswept buildings of downtown.

On the second account, I was surprised at the extent to which society in Cairo seems to have slid from Nasserite nationalism to Islamic fundamentalism. I understood that Islam in Cairo would be practiced more strictly in Cairo than in Istanbul, and knew that Egyptian women generally wore headscarves. But I was not prepared for how socially conservative Cairo was. I saw virtually no women working anywhere, and very few young Egyptians in mixed-gender company. The niqab (full black veil with only a small opening for the eyes) was also a common sight. Although I have no problem with headscarves and respect the right of others to dress as they choose, I find it impossible to reconcile the niqab with gender equality or individual liberty: it's a garment that covers a woman to the point of obliterating her individuality and therefore objectifies her. Sexual harassment of women is a common occurrence, perhaps because of the segregation of genders and the inferior status of women. Although the government recognizes Israel, hostility towards Jews is still widespread and copies of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion are commonly circulated. In a metropolitan area of 17 million people, there are few bars that aren't located in Western hotel chains and populated by expatriates. There are a handful of nightclubs in the city, but only enough clubgoers to fill one of them at a time. You can buy alcohol, but only cheap Egyptian brands; there's not enough of a market for importers. In general, religion in Cairo seems to regulate people's daily life - who they associate with, what they wear, what they do on a Saturday night - to an extent that Islam in Turkey or Christianity in the US do not.

Three or four decades ago, women could go uncovered in Cairo, but today doing so would be an anomaly. My friend explained to me that the rise of Islamic fundamentalism is a relatively recent phenomenon caused by the perceived failure of Western-oriented modernization, and I think this highlights a key difference between Turkey and most of its neighbors to the south and east. Modernization in Turkey has its discontents, of course, but in general it has produced a prosperous society that has benefitted most people; even in the southeast, which remains underdeveloped, the negative side effects of globalization have been minimal. By contrast, economic modernization in the Arab middle east has yielded less growth, probably because these countries do not enjoy Turkey's integration into European markets, and because in many cases they lacked Turkey's long tradition of urbanization and commerce. Meanwhile, while Turkey was content to play a low profile on the international stage and cooperate with world powers, the assertiveness of Arab leaders on the post-War World 2 international stage often lead to rejection, humiliation, and defeat by Western powers who continually supported Israel, propped up corrupt conservative dictators against reforming nationalist, and demanded subservience in exchange for aid. Part of this responsibility lies on the West for not appreciating the sensitivities of other cultures, recognizing the legitimacy of some differences in values and interests, and demanding liberalization when it did not align with immediate US interests. This trend in American policy towards the Middle East continues into recent years, for example, with the American rejection of Khatami in Iran and our rejection of democratic elections that brought Hamas to power (although accepting Hamas's legitimate victory should not imply condoning their use of violence). Looking forward, one of the challenges of American diplomacy in the region must be to balance the three goals of promoting immediate American self-interest, promoting a broader attitude of liberalism and pluralism, and respecting the legitimate cultural values and aspirations of the Middle Eastern people. How to strike this balance is a more difficult question.

Thoughts on Egypt Coming Soon

But first I need to wade through midterms. In short, Egypt is a fascinating country. Cairo had a lot more history and architecture than I expected, and the pyramids are one of the more impressive sights I've ever seen. But Cairo is also a filthy, polluted city, and I was surprised at the extent to which Nasser's secular nationalism has been replaced with very conservative Islam. Women universally wear headscarves and sometimes niqabs, The only bar in the city are at Western hotels, and while you can buy alcohol it's only Egyptian knockoff brands. The country is also amazingly cheap.

Why Turkey Matters

I never had an entirely cogent reason for studying abroad in Turkey, as I have previously noted. But all the same, I'm studying in Turkey in large part because I believe it is a country that matters in world affairs, and has enormous potential to matter even more than it does now. It's a large country, with a growing population and economy. Turkey currently has a population of 72.5 million, and its growing at a substantial but sustainable growth rate of 1.25-1.3 percent per year. If Turkey joins the European Union, it will become the largest member state as the population in the large Western European states stagnates or drops (however, I think European racism will probably keep Turkey out of the EU in the medium term). It's the world's 16th largest economy, and the second-largest economy in the Muslim world after Indonesia, with a GDP of around $880 billion (purchasing power parity), which translates to per capita income of around $12,000. Growth has been uneven, but generally brisk. The Turkish military has over 600,000 active members (mostly conscripts) and modern hardware, making it an important military power.

Beyond the encyclopedia figures, however, Turkey has the potential to matter because it has one foot planted in the West, and another foot planted in the developing world generally and the Muslim world in particular.

Politically, Turkey is a liberal democracy: free and fair elections are held regularly and political demonstrations are a common sight in Istanbul. Admittedly, significant flaws remain in Turkish democracy - Kurdish political and cultural activity is limited by the government, political parties demonstrate only grudging respect the freedom of the press, and some argue that the secularism of the Turkish government unfairly restricts religious practice - but outside Israel it is easily the most democratic state in the middle east, north africa, and central asia. Furthermore, Turkey has been a member of NATO since 1952, has recognized Israel since soon after the Israeli state began, and participates in many European and transatlantic political and economic institutions. Yet, under the current government of Recep Tayyip Erdogan and foreign minister Ahmet Davotoglu, Turkey has also moved to build relationships with its neighbors to the east as well as the west. Turkey has resolved longstanding differences with Syria and is establishing a trade zone with Syria, Jordan and Lebanon. Meanwhile, it's gained widespread public support in the Islamic world for its criticism of Israeli policy in the Occupied Territories.

Culturally, Turkey is more Westernized than its Arab and Persian neighbors, yet it is still a Muslim country. The traditional political class in Turkey are highly secular, embrace Western liberal values, and generally do not practice religion. Istanbul has thriving art, fashion, and nightlife scenes; outside of Israel, there's no place in the greater Middle East that can match them. Secularism is not limited to the upper classes - there are many Turks who don't actively practice Islam and who support the principles of the rigidly secular state. Relatively few Turks embrace the conservative, puritanical strains of Islam that are popular in much of the Middle East. Yet, for many Turks, Islam is an important part of their daily lives. For hundreds of years, as the capital of the Ottoman Empire, Istanbul was the center of the Islamic world, and that heritage remains. It's dangerous to oversimplify religion and assume that all Muslims possess an absolute bond of solidarity and share identical world views - Islam, like Christianity, exists in many different forms - but nor is shared faith irrelevant to culture, lifestyle, and attitudes. Culturally, Turkey is a synthesis between East and West.

In short, Turkey can empathize and understand the political values and desires of both the developed Western world and the developing world, particularly the Muslim world. As such, Turkey is credible with both sets of countries. It can act credibly to advance democracy and human rights in the Middle East because it is not seen as a tool of Western imperialism, and can act credibly to protect equitable development and Islamic sensitivities in the West because it is not seen as anti-Western. Turkey might be able to exert political pressure on fellow Middle Eastern states to liberalize, exert pressure on the West to avoid demonizing Muslims, or exert pressure on both sides to act reasonably with regards to the Israel-Palestine conflict. Turkish diplomats, politicians, and intellectuals can help translate the demands or concerns of one culture into a language that is understandable and reasonable to the other culture, and this can make it a valuable player in multilateral negotiations in forums like the UN and the G20. If Turkey can resolve the domestic conflicts with its neighbors, it could also serve as a highly credible mediator in peace talks.

In addition to being more culturally and politically liberal than its Muslim neighbors, Turkey is also more economically developed. Although Turkey is poorer than the petrostates of the Persian Gulf, it is the biggest economy in the region and possesses a well-diversified industrial base. Important sectors of the Turkish economy include export agriculture, textiles, consumer appliances and electronics, international construction, trucks, and shipbuilding. Turkey's economic growth has not been particularly export-oriented (it runs a trade deficit). However, Turkey enjoys a high degree of economic integration with Europe; Turkish textiles, appliances, and electronics can be manufactured with relatively low labor costs and exported to Europe.

In addition to occupying low value-added economic roles in Europe, I think Turkey has the potential to emerge as an economic leader of the Greater Middle East by capitalizing on its relatively well-developed infrastructure, educated population, and the economic expertise its acquired via integration into European markets. The Turkish construction industry is thriving in the Middle East and Central Asia, and I think other Turkish have the potential to do the same. Turkey is geographically close, reducing transporation costs for manufacturing. It's also culturally close, which can help Turkish firms market goods and adapt to local retail conditions. Finally, it's economically close, because Turkey is a middle income country where many consumers demand affordable low-end products. This could let Turkish businesses profitably develop low-end consumer goods for domestic consumption and then begin exporting to the greater Middle East; European businesses face a disadvantage because they could not sell their products in domestic markets, while businesses in less-developed countries than Turkey are disadvantaged by poor infrastructure and less-skilled labor. The Turkish financial and telecommunications industries are substantially owned and controlled by the state, but with liberalization they, too, could play important regional roles because of Turkey's skilled workforce and large domestic market.

It's not certain that Turkey will capitalize on these political and economic opportunities, especially considering the country's often dysfunctional political structure. However, I think the current government of the neo-Islamist Justice and Development Party (AKP - its Turkish acronym) is moving in the right direction. Even as it has tightened relationships with the rest of the Muslim world, drawing concern from the traditional elite and conservatives in the United States, it has substantially improved Turkey's human rights record, asserted civilian control over the military, made a serious attempt at reconciliation with Turkey's Kurdish minority, and enthusiastically embraced membership in the European Union. Although economic policy issues play a very secondary role in Turkish national politics, the AKP supports economic liberalism and a reduced state role in the economy; although I'm far from a free market fundamentalist, I'm inclined to believe the privatization could help Turkey expand economically. I think the AKP demands further discussion, but after outlining the potential I see for Turkey, I want to take a separate to consider how the AKP can help it fulfill this potential.

Turkish Food

I figured I would take a break from my usual intellectual ramblings to discuss one of the true joys of traveling in Turkey: the culinary experience. Turkish food isn't a very high profile cuisine in the US, but it's not entirely unfamiliar. Turkey is situated between Greece and the Levant (the Mediterranean Middle East), and the culinary influences of these more familiar cuisines are quite pronounced. However, it retains its own unique touches as well. With the caveat that it's never easy to reduce a cuisine to a list of dishes and flavors, I'll try to outline turkish the basics of Turkish cuisine.

The main meats are in Turkish food are beef, lamb, and chicken. In addition to standard grilled, a few unique dishes include doner kebab (thin slices of meat stacked on a vertical spit, roasted over an open fire, and shaved off the spit), sis kebab (grilled meat and vegetables on a skewer), kofte (Turkish meatballs), and cig kofte (raw ground beef with bulgur and diced onions). Doner is probably the most iconic food in Turkey, has a million variations, and has gained prominence in Europe thanks to the large numbers of Turkish immigrants. In addition, because Turkey is a country with an extensive coastline grilled whole fish (usually sea bass, sea bream, or turbot) is also very popular. It's served very simply, with greens and a slice of lemon. Another unique entree is Manti, a pasta stuffed with meat and served with a yogurt sauce; yogurt is a major element of Turkish cuisine in many forms. Popular vegetables include eggplant (the Turks have discovered every conceivable that can be possibly done with it), tomato, olive, and cucumber. In addition to green salads, Turkish food commonly includes salads of diced tomato and cucumber. White, crumbly cheeses (similar in texture to feta, but less salty) accompany many dishes. Fruit isn't a major part of classic Turkish cuisine with the exception of apricots; Turkey is the world's largest producer of apricots. While there are only a few genuinely spicy dishes, paprika, oregano, basil, and mint are all common seasonings. Like in most of the world, rice is a common accompaniment

In addition to restaurants, the streets of Turkey are lined with other culinary distractions. Cart peddling street foods are abundant mussels stuffed with rice, fish sandwiches, simit (bagel-like pastries crusted with sesame seeds), roasted chestnuts, and, somewhat oddly, corn. Bakeries are almost omnipresent. In addition to simit, they sell savory pastries called borek, which consist of a filo-like dough filled with cheese, vegetables, or meat. The shape of the pastry signals what's inside: cigar-shaped for cheese, square for meat, and so on. There are also a wide variety sweets, which come in three basic varieties. First, pastries drenched in syrup. Best known is baklava, a pastry of thin dough and ground nuts drenched in a honey-like syrup, but there are other variants as well. Second, puddings, including one desert pudding with chicken in it (something I have yet to try). Third, Turkish Delight, a soft, gelatinous candy that's mostly sold in tourist traps but is undeniably Turkish in origin.

Finally, any decent meal must include a beverage. The quintessential Turkish beverage is probably cay (tea). Turkish people drink predominantly black tea, sometimes combined with apples or other fruit. Turkish people drink their tea strong, with sugar, and consumed from small, distinctively-shaped tea glasses. Interestingly enough, while tea is the mainstay of dusty cafes on the side streets of Istanbul, it was only popularized in Turkey in the 1920s and 1930s. In a country with thousands of years history, I find it interesting that a drink like this can ingrain itself in the national soul so quickly. Turkish coffee - strong, small, and served unfiltered - was historically the drink of the Ottoman empire, and Ottoman conquests first introduced the drink to Europe. Today, however, you're far more likely to see an affluent young Turk drinking Starbucks or Gloria Jeans than traditional Turkish coffee. A similar fate seems to be befalling raki, the national alcohol of Turkey. Raki is an anise-based hard alcohol, similar to ouzo, that is always mixed with water when consumed. While I like, most Americans and many Turks do not. The final Turkish drink, less popular than tea but more resilient than raki and Turkish coffee, is ayran, a beverage comprised of yogurt, water, and salt. It's better than it sounds.

If you want to check out Turkish food in DC, check out Cafe Divan in Upper Georgetown/Glover Park. Since I ate there before coming to Turkey, I can't comment on the authenticity of the food, but the menu presents typical Turkish dishes, the prices are reasonable, and the atmosphere is nice.

Impressions of Istanbul, Part 2

I spent this past weekend in Cappadocia, a region of incredible natural beauty in central Turkey. The earth in Cappadocia is a very soft volcanic rock (almost the texture of balsa wood - you can crumble it in your hand). The erosion of this rock has created giant, stalactite-like rock towers that dot the landscape, sometimes reaching 30 or 40 feet in height. For around 1400 years people have carved dwellings out of these rock towers, and there are ancient cities preserved as parks (think Mesa Verde) as well as contemporary buildings to see. In addition, the soft rock allowed the creation of completely underground ancient cities, which you can also. Finally, the soft rock allows easy access to natural hot springs. Unfortunately, while Cappadocia was beautiful, and certainly worth seeing if you come to Turkey, the trip was horribly organized. We spent the night in a poorly-built, fly-infested hotel close to two hours away from the main sights, squandered time on secondary attractions like pottery and wine tastings, and were perennially behind schedule. I don't have nearly as much to report about Cappadocia as I did about the Aegean Coast. However, Cappadocia did show me a different side of Turkey: a side that is relatively, poor, remote, and traditional. The bleak towns of Cappadocia seem like they are in a different country from bustling, cosmopolitan Istanbul and Izmir.

I have said that Turkey is a country at a crossroads. At any crossroads, the view depends on the direction you are approaching. Arriving in Istanbul from the United States and Europe, I noticed many of the ways in which Istanbul differs from the West. Returning to Istanbul from Cappadocia, I noticed the many ways in which Istanbul is a part of the West, and I suspect that comparing Turkey with the Arabic Middle East would similarly cast Turkey in a Western light. For example, women are very present in the public sphere in Istanbul - working, shopping, dancing, and traveling. In contrast, I saw very few local women working in shops or restaurants in Cappadocia. I was curious to see whether the head scarf was more common in Cappadocia, but I did not enough local women to assess this. Likewise, public restrooms in Istanbul (and the Aegean) are the same as those in the United States or Europe. In Cappadocia, the restrooms were almost always filthy and foul-smelling, and often lacked Western toilets. Many of Istanbul's buildings could use a fresh coat of paint, but the buildings in the city center are basically constructed to modern standards. The hotel in Cappadocia seemed like it was built by amateurs: the floor was a bit uneven, the grout was unevenly applied, and the shower was poorly designed. Sure, coastal Turkey has its idiosyncrasies: headscarves are a daily sight, men and women are seated separately on long-distance busses, and the streets aren't cleaned that regularly.

The importance of perspective in understanding Turkey also applies to politics. Compared with Western Europe, Turkey has a questionable commitment to human rights and democracy. It restricts the cultural independence of its Kurdish minority, bans political parties denies that there was an Armenian genocide (although it acknowledges that the Turkish army committed war crimes), deals with repressive regimes in Iran and Syria, and has increasingly cooled to Israel. The current government bullies media conglomerates with massive fines and the opposition attempts to have the ruling party banned. The military has overthrown democratically elected governments four times since 1960 and the public views these "military interventions" (they are never referred to as "coups") in a generally positive light. But compared with the Middle East, Turkey is still a glowing example of responsible government. Political demonstrations are a frequent occurrence, free and regular elections with multiple parties regularly result in peaceful changes of government, human rights violations by the police and the military are investigated, and the government recognizes Israel and maintains extensive diplomatic and military ties. Some political commentators in the US have noted their concern with the policy shifts of the current (AKP) government away from Europe and argued that Turkey is transforming into Syria or Iran. The policies of the AKP merit debate, but painting Turkey with the same brush as repressive Middle Eastern autocracies is the simplistic result of an extremely skewed perspective. Turkey may not be the West, but nor is it the East.

The Aegean Coast

I spent this weekend travelling down the Aegean coast. The area along the Aegean Sea, which lies west of Turkey and east of Greece, is one of Turkey's most prosperous and historic cities. In Greek and Roman times, the Aegean coast was an important center of commerce and civilization, and the region retained a large Greek Christian population until 1923, when a "population exchange" between Greece and Turkey deported about 1 million ethnic Greeks living in Turkey in exchange for a similar number of Turks living in Greece. Although the region was hurt by the loss of the Greeks, many of whom were singularly skilled artisans, it rebounded and today is an economic powerhouse in Turkey.

On Friday morning, I flew with friends from Istanbul to Izmir on one of Turkey's marvelously cheap budget airlines. Izmir is Turkey's third-largest city, with a population of around 2.7 million people. It's located halfway down the Aegean, about 300 or so miles from Istanbul. From the Izmir airport we took a bus and a horse-drawn carriage to Ephesus. Ephesus was one of the largest and most important centers of commerce in the Hellenistic world and was later the capital city of the Roman province of Asia. At its peak, it had a population of over 200,000, making it the second-largest city in the world after Rome. After the harbor silted up and the sea receded, the city was abandoned, and today it's one of the largest and best preserved ruins of the ancient world. With an excellent guide, the city was really able to come alive, although some of the sights would have been breathtaking even without one: the meticulously reconstructed Library of Ephesus and the massive 25,000 seat theater. I found Ephesus, as well as the other ruins we visited, to be particularly compelling because they were very open for exploration. Except for a couple roped-off areas, you could walk, jump, or climb wherever you wanted. It felt like an actual city, not just a museum.

After Ephesus, we visited the nearby town of Selcuk. In Selcuk, we saw the ruins of the Basilica of St. John, a massive 6th-century church with even fewer-roped off areas than Ephesus, as well as the single column that remains from the Temple of Artemis, one of the Seven Wonder of the Ancient World. I think my description of the Turkish attitude towards historical sites applies as well to the Aegean coast as to elsewhere: they respect their history, and would never demolish, but nor do they treat it as a museum piece to be polished and locked away. Selcuk was a lovely town that also contained a charming museum of archaeology, an early mosque, and charming streets. In the town, we met a twenty-something Canadian named Alex, who was working in Norway and taking vacation in Turkey. We invited Alex to join us for lunch, and he ended up joining our contingent for the next couple days.

In the evening, we arrived in Izmir. Although Izmir is also an ancient city, a fire in the 1920s destroyed most of the historic city center. Izmir feels much newer and less crowded than Istanbul, with broad streets and lovely public plazas. There aren't a whole lot of tourist sites in Izmir, but there's a market with far better prices than the Grand Bazaar and a gorgeous waterside promenade lined with restaurants and bars. After a fresh fish dinner Friday night, while walking along the promenade, we met a large group of about 100 Turkish college freshman from three area universities. They were meeting on Friday night to get to know each other, and we chatted and played games with them before returning to the hostel.

On Saturday, we left Izmir for the ruins at Pergamon. Although not nearly as well-preserved as Ephesus, Pergamon was equally stunning because of its location: dramatically situated on the crest of a hill overlooking sapphire-blue lakes, rolling farmland, and the contemporary town of Bergama. Unfortunately, we didn't actually get to see much of Bergama: we were a bit behind schedule, and needed to travel about 2 hours north to Ayvalik, a for the night. Ayvalik is a quiet town of 30,000 situated on the Aegean coast, and populated mostly by Greeks until 1923. It evoked a feel reminiscent of how Orhan Pamuk describes the city of Kars in his novel Snow, although Ayvalik is certainly a far more prosperous town. With a little more time, we could have seen some of the Greek houses and churches, but we were only able to enjoy a delicious lokanta dinner and shoot a few games of pool at a local pool hall. Although my pool skills are somewhat lacking, it was a good time. In Istanbul, I rarely leave my comfort zone to interact with locals (particularly if they don't speak English) but in the pool hall I was able to breach the language barrier and befriend some of the Turks in the hall.

On Sunday, our previously leisurely pace began to catch up with us even more. We had to skip our planned stop at Assos (Behramkale), an ancient seaside hamlet, and rush up the coast to Canakkale and Troy on the Dardanelles straits. Troy is one of those places that you know is going to be underwhelming, but must visit nonetheless. Compared with Pergamon and Ephesus, there's very little to see: just some stone foundations and a reconstructed wooden horse. But still, it's Troy. About 20 kilometers up the coast is the modern city of Canakkale (about 100,000) residents, with another bustling waterfront and a charming, winding main street. We ate a deliciously fresh sea bass dinner along the waterfront promenade. As we dined inside the restaurant, we watched a man fishing off the promenade to catch more sea bass for the restaurant. With another day, we could have ventured across the Dardanelles strait to Gallipolli, the site of one of the most important battles of WW1. British, Australian, and New Zealander forces were attempting to open a sea route to their Russian allies, but were repelled by Ottoman forces under Mustafa Kemal, future founder of the Turkish Republic. The battle was critical in forming the national identities of Turkey, as well as the emerging nations of Australia and New Zealand.

On Sunday night, we took the overnight bus from Canakkale to Istanbul, arriving at campus around 7:30 in the morning. We slept some on the bus, which was actually quite comfortable (complete with TV screens and free snacks), but certainly didn't get a full night's sleep. I certainly needed a cup of coffee before class, but the trip was certainly worth it. If anything, we could have used another day.I try to live life in the way that will give me the best memories; five years from now, I won't remember being tired the next morning, but I will remember the great things I saw the day before.

Impressions of Istanbul, Part 1

I had never been to Istanbul before coming Koç University. Although I had heard wonderful things about the city, and barely considered the notion that I might not like it, I had very little on which to base my expectations. Most of what I knew about the city came from pictures, Wikipedia articles, and Orhan Pamuk novels. I imagined minarets soaring above narrow, picturesque streets of thousand-year old buildings; rows of ornate wooden houses lining the shores of the Bosphorus; throngs of elegantly dressed Istanbulites congregating on city squares late at night; and quiet yet exotic meyhanes nestled in remote corners of the city. What I imagined was something romantic, exotic, and cosmopolitan at the same time. In some ways, Istanbul has met these expectations, but in other ways, it has defied them. The real Istanbul is more authentic and modern, yet less exotic and romantic, than what I had imagined.

When traveling through Europe before I arrived in Istanbul, I sometimes lamented that the old cities of Europe feel almost too well preserved, too much like a Disney version of reality. As a tourist, you see a Prague and a Vienna and a Milan that are filled with perfectly restored buildings along immaculately clean, car-free streets crammed with restaurants and souvenir shops where English is the lingua franca. It's wonderful, but it's not an accurate snapshot of what Prague and Vienna and Milan were really like for most of their hundreds of years of history, or even what life in these cities is life for the average resident today. By contrast, Istanbul is a city that seems unconcerned with presenting a polished image to the outside world. It's a pragmatic place where things exist to serve the needs of ordinary residents. Immediately around Hagia Sofia, you see perfectly restored buildings and wonderfully manicured parks and streets lined with English-speaking cafes, but only a few blocks a way the city gets back to its everyday business. The Bosphorus is visually stunning, but it's also a major working waterway. Its harbors are filled with fishing boats and ferries, not yachts and tour boats. Istanbul today is what I imagine Chicago or New York or Vienna was like a hundred years: living, breathing, and working without pretense.

Although the citizens of Istanbul seem proud of their city's 1700-year history as the capital of three empires, they do not seem inclined to preserve the city as a museum piece. In reality, there is little that remains of Istanbul from before the Ottoman conquest in 1453, because the Byzantine Empire and Constantinople were then in a state of severe decline and were unable to maintain the grand Roman structures: the city's population had plummeted from over half a million in 530 AD to just 36,000 when it was conquered by Sultan Mehmet. With a few exceptions, those structures that remain are integrated into the fabric of daily life: modern roads run underneath Roman aqueducts and out of the Byantine city walls. This attitude has occasionally run afoul of UNESCO, which prefers ancient sites to be pristinely preserved for a eternity: the city's ancient sites are routinely placed on its list of most endangered sites, and restoration work has progressed slowly even on the Hagia Sofia. Yet there's something fascinating about seeing satellite dishes protruding from a 13th-century house built by Genoese traders, and who wouldn't want to stay in an Ottoman prison converted into a five-star hotel?

The authenticity of Istanbul is invigorating. Unfortunately, it comes at a price: while Istanbul has some architectural and natural wonders it is not, one the whole, a beautiful city. Browse through the pictures on the Istanbul Wikipedia article and you'll see something as stunning as any old European city. What these pictures don't capture is that, even in the wealthy parts of town, the historic buildings are mixed in with drab concrete structures and the side streets could use cleaning. Sultanahmet, the area surrounding Istanbul's great sights, is residential, working-class, dirty, and thoroughly unremarkable. The posh center of contemporary Istanbul, Beyoglu, has a bustling square, but it's probably the ugliest square you've ever seen: bisected by a major road, lined with horrendous 1970s architecture, and terminating in a blank wall at the west end. In Levent, the high-rise business district north of the center, the sidewalks in front of the 30-story glass towers could use repair. It's only once you step inside the ornate mosques of Sultanahmet or the chic restaurants of Beyoglu that you truly experience the elegance and wealth of Istanbul.

There's more I want to say about my impressions of Istanbul, which I will cover in Part 2 of this post. Istanbul is truly a city at a crossroads, between the East and West and between the first world and the third, and between modern and ancient, and this merits greater elaboration. But at the moment, I'm practicing what I like to call productive procrastination: doing something worthwhile (blogging) to avoid doing something else more pressing (studying for tomorrow's Turkish quiz). I will hopefully have a chance to return to this subject this weekend.

Welcome

A lot of blogs begin with long-winded and pretentious statements of purposes. I am going to try to avoid doing that. This is a humble weblog for me to share my experiences and thoughts while studying abroad at Koc University in Istanbul, Turkey, and traveling around the region. My principal audience is family and friends who want to see what I've been doing, although the interested public is certainly welcome as well. I'm going to aim to update this blog about once a week, or more if I have something particularly interesting to say. Welcome, and enjoy!