Turkey Day Four ((Whirling))

Michelle and I had another SAS trip today, called the “Prince Isles”…now by the name of this excursion, I figured we might be doing something like island-hopping with a few hours to shop/explore each island. I was mistaken, and in the best way possible. We actually got on the Metro which runs through the city of Istanbul and hopped on a Ferry that would float us to the largest of the Prince Isles’, Buyukada, which housed and still houses some of the wealthiest families during the summer months. Apparently it’s this hot vacation spot for Istanbulers’ who want to get away from all that dirty traffic because it’s one of the only islands around Turkey that allows no cars whatsoever.

Michelle and I plopped down on a bench in the back of the two-story Ferry and I was nonchalantly staring out the window when these three guys who looked to be in their mid-twenties (are you tired of the creepy guy stories yet? Clearly this is all I’ve encountered while in Turkey. You can imagine my frustration and annoyance after the first day here) sat down right next to us. I felt Michelle scoot closer to me, and I caught the one guy consistently nudging her arm. I tried to stifle my laughter because Michelle does not like to be touched or bothered. She gets even angrier than I do at the whole harassment thing every time we step foot alone in the city, and sometimes I just have to chuckle at her annoyances. The guy kept trying to talk to her, and she kept scooting me toward the window until finally he looked over her shoulder at me. I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Where you from, lady?”

To his jaggedly-spoken English I replied, “Colorado. My name is Stephanie and this is April. We are both 20 and studying abroad.” Then I turned my head back toward the window hoping he would get the idea that we’ve heard this spiel a million times and were certainly not interested in dating/doing anything with him after we hopped off of the Ferry.

Apparently, this does not work on foreign men. When you give out information like this in countries other than America, this means you are clearly interested. I gave flippant answers to all of his questions for the next 37.5 minutes and communicated with Michelle through my facial language that we needed to move seats. I was now uncomfortably close to the wall.

The even creepier man three seats away kept staring at Michelle like a hyena, and if he started foaming at the mouth, I would not have been the least bit surprised. The first guy asked if I liked Turkish Tea, and I told him I liked the Apple Tea…I must have misunderstood the question because he was up in a flash and brought Michelle and I back tea in steaming hot glasses. I took mine and swirled it around, and Michelle promptly stated that she was allergic to tea. I almost choked on my laughter.
Needless to say, 5 minutes later we were out of those seats and my tea grew cold and I threw it out because Michelle said they probably put Roofies in it. Roofied is not something I wanted to be when I stepped off the Ferry, so I let the yummy aroma soak in my pores and chucked it.

Buyukada was very pretty, and not as touristy as I figured it might have been. The SASer’s took horse carriage rides around the island, and I found this to be way cool. Our driver had let us stop for a coffee break, which was more like a picture break, and I climbed up on his seat and took the reigns. If ever my writing career does not work out, I feel as though I could become a skillful horse-driver. Ha. We raced around the island laughing and Queen-waving (me) to every horse carriage we passed.
We had gotten free boxed lunches from the ship before we left in the morning because our trip lasted over lunch. I was kind of expecting a lunch similar to something my mom would have made me in high school. You know, my sandwich cut in half, yummy cookies and a chocolate, a note on the napkin…haha. Okay, maybe not that good, but something semi-normal.

I opened this boxed lunch on a bench by a fish market and looked at Michelle with amusement. I am not a picky eater, but she is and I could only imagine what she must have been thinking.

Contents of SAS Boxed Lunches:

1 sandwich with warm bologna/salami, stale bread that crunches when bitten into.
1 Hardboiled egg.
1 packet of actual Oreos (which I gobbled up faster than you can say “Yum!”)
1 piece of unidentifiably dry cake (I think?)
1 crushed banana (mine was rather deformed, and a bit soggy)
1 deliciously appreciated Capri Sun

… What I want to know is where the egg came from. It was so random!

… on the Ferry ride back to Istanbul, Michelle was passed out next to me (not from the Roofied tea, mind you) and so of course I had my camera out snapping shots of people across the way. We made a stop to pick up people from a different island, and who should sit next to me but a foursome of real-life hippies. These were about the coolest people I could have had plop down next to me. Three men, one woman, all with dreads down to their butts and faded hemp bracelets and anklets. I wanted so badly to strike up a conversation with them, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The blonde-haired man took out a Bouzouki and started playing it, and my jaw dropped. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his hands because I thought maybe if I watched him play, I too could learn how to play my own Bouzouki….not so much. I took some really good black and whites of them, so that way, if the horse-driver career doesn’t work out for me, I might be able to become a hippie. : }

When we arrived back in Istanbul, Liz, Michelle, and I bought tickets to a Sufi Dervish Whirling Ceremony. That’s a mouthful, right? In case you are clueless as to what this even is, like I was, it is the traditional religious dance for the Turks who desire to connect deeply with God. The ceremony was held in a train station and the music played was really cool, and then the “dervishes” came out in these black robes and tall hats. It reminded me a bit of the KKK, except a little less white and less people… then the music got louder, and the chorus began singing and then the dervish dances started…well, whirling. In circles…for about 1 hour straight. I am not even kidding. They just twirled faster and faster to the beat of the music, and I guess through this dance, they are praying and becoming closer to God.

I had to restrain myself from giggling uncontrollably. You just had to be there. It was the most absurd thing I think I have ever seen. The guy across the way was fast asleep, so after I took all the pictures I could handle of these Whirling Dervishes, I started taking pictures of every audience member to not only capture what they thought about the performance but to keep myself from falling fast asleep. The ceremony was physically and mentally draining. You just had to be there. You just had to be there.

Later Gator,
A.