The Mirrored Passage

Sunday, September 27, 2015

     Last night the mosquitoes made themselves known, and the thunder at 3:30 a.m. suggested a storm, so I arose and went to the terrace to see what the Bosporous looks like in the middle of the night.  We have kept the door to the large terrace open since we arrived, leaving the terrace light on as a sort of "night light" to guide any nocturnal wanderings.  Last night there were no lights anywhere, so only the shadows of a few ships passing in the night could be seen.  Lightning would flash across the sky now and then, but there was no sign of rain.

     The air from the Bosporous, so fresh and cool and soothing, decided me on sleeping on the Turkish sofa that faces the terrace.  Europe and Asia --the latter on the other side of the long channel that is the Bosporous from where I lay-- spread out before me.  I took a blanket from the bedroom and kept it ready in case I felt a chill, but I easily dropped of to sleep.

     When my father went to sea at the age of eighteen, he boarded a Spanish Navy ship that took him through the Straits of Gibraltar.  Gibraltar is where Europe and Africa look each other straight in the eye, and it evoked wonderment in my father.  As the Bosporous does me.  The great ports --New York, Marseille, Istanbul and others-- do too.  Populations travel to these destinations advantageous to commerce and civilizations emerge.

     Istanbul first appears in historical records as Byzantium twenty-five hundred years ago, although it is believed the original settlement is earlier.  Constantine builds the first church on the site of the Hagia Sofia in the fourth century, A.D., opening it on February 15, 360.  Constantinople becomes co-equal to Rome in 500, and separates from Rome in 1054, in what is known as The Great Schism.  After Sultan Mehmed II defeats the Latins during the siege of Constantinople in 1453, the city becomes Ottoman and the capital of the empire.   The Hagia Sofia's history as a mosque begins at this time.  At the request of Ataruk, the mosque becomes a museum on February 1, 1935, the former Christian church-turned-mosque then deconsecrated.

     Istanbul is a constantly evolving city.  It's population is sometimes given as fifteen million, although no one knows exactly how many people call Istanbul home.  More sophisticated than the rest of Turkey, some analysts have suggested that it would break off and become separate from the rest of the country, an island of tolerance in an increasingly Islamicized country.

     Walking through the neighborhood near the apartment, I see Turkish flags everywhere, many accompanied by a banner with a photo of Ataturk, the father of modern, secular Turkey.  The photos of Ataturk are an indication of support for an open, democratic Turkey.  The recent setbacks suffered by the President's party suggest that most of Turkey is not yet ready to give greater Islamization --and those in power who support that-- a free pass.  The future is anyone's guess.

     There is a code of hospitality --yesterday a young woman paid our tramway fares because we did not yet have a tramway card; today a man making fruit smoothies tried to give me a banana when I asked whether I could buy one-- but everyone who displayed such kindness to us was dressed in Western fashion.  The hundreds of people we passed --men in Western gear "protecting" relatives or wives wearing headscarves and long dresses, if not burkas-- gave us nothing other than quick, cautious looks.

     This morning, Max and I walked along the Istlikal: it was early in the morning and the broad avenue was virtually empty, the only pedestrians a number of young men whose dress and manner suggested they had been out dancing all night at gay clubs.  One young men held hands with a beautiful transvestite, walking comfortably with her.  Off the Istlikal, near Saint Anthony of Padua Church on the Istlikal, we came to the Avrupa Pasaji, a shopping gallery with scarves and many other souvenirs to buy.  Yunus, the owner of one of the booths, happily engaged us in conversation.

      "If you are here tomorrow, you must come back to drink chai with me.  Please take one of the refrigerator magnets home with you as a souvenir of me.  If you don't like it, please don't throw it away...take the one with 'ISTANBUL' --you see it shows the Blue Mosque, the Maiden Tower and the Hagia Sofia...."

     And he pushed the fridge magnet on me as a gift, talking as he wrapped my purchases.

     "You know, it's not all about money.  I have to make money --I am here seven years, and this shop is my 'baby', but I am not here just for money.  I like to talk to people, I speak a little Spanish, and a little English and I like to practice speaking."

     As he completes his wrapping, he says,

     "Do you know how to find me again?  It is the 'Avrupa Pasaji', although most people don't know the name this way, they know it as the 'Mirrored Passage.'" 

      And he points up above the booths in the gallery, to make sure I see the sections of mirror, cut into decorative shapes, that line tops of the sides of the passageway.

      "'The Mirrored Passage' --everybody knows where it is, if you have to ask."

       --Istanbul.