January 2 to 10

For photos, see: http://anatolianphotos.shutterfly.com "January 2 to 10."


Once Anna’s cold cleared up, and my sidewalk tumble became a memory, we were ready to do some traveling. Alas, one available tour was to Pamukkale and Aphrodias, where we had already been. The other possibility, a trip to Cappadocia, was canceled. We thought about heading there (to Cappadocia) on our own, but other plans, such as visits to shadow some doctors, and dinners with various people, were in the works. Besides, being mid-winter, a self-tour could be risky. So, instead, Anna and I explored more of Ankara while Larry continued teaching. And the three of us continued to socialize and explore even more of Old Ankara.

First was a walk Anna and I took to Anitkabir, the mausoleum of Ataturk, the founder of the Turkish Republic. Larry and I had been there in late October during the annual celebration of the founding of the Republic. Where there were many thousands of people in the main courtyard on that October day, on this later visit, there were Anna and me, two other people, and a handful of guards. That’s it. Because there were so few people around, we were able to pay tribute at Ataturk's sarcophagus, sitting atop the actual tomb. The actual tomb looks beautiful in photographs, but we never figured out how to get into the lower tomb area. Then we visited the museum portion of the complex, where there is a new section I’d never seen. In this historical area, in addition to many more artifacts and portraits, there are two long – about 100 to 150 feet – painted murals depicting two famous battles. The paintings of the siege at Gallipoli during World War I, as well as one of the key battles during the War of Independence in the early 1920s were breathtaking, if depressing. In front of the amazingly effective artwork were artifacts from the wars, incorporated into the background painting, creating a 3-D effect to the entire display. To complete the picture, we heard the sounds of battle, which were a little unnerving. The entire experience was very moving, and very disturbing.

Next on our agenda was a dinner with Meldan and her brother Ercan. Ercan, an officer in the Central Bank of Turkey (Merkez Bankasi) took us to the bank’s restaurant in Cankaya, one of the swankier sections of Ankara. He, like me, has a vivid memory of our being there fifteen years ago. At that time, there was live music, in English, mostly 1960s popular songs. Larry asked me to dance to one of the songs, which startled me at the time; Larry is normally not an eager dancer. What stayed in Ercan’s and my memory most was the fact that nobody else was dancing; this is not the type of place where people normally dance. But there we were—Larry and me—dancing away, to a waltz, no less—oblivious to the stares (and smiles) of everyone in the restaurant. Larry and Meldan have no memory of this. I am very glad Ercan remembers, as I was beginning to question my memory—again.

Next day, we headed back to the rug shop, Best Koleksiyon, to have lunch yet again with Kadir Bey and Neslihan Hamin. (Note: “Bey” is a form of respect for a man, “Hanim” for a woman). We were joined by a family from Kansas who were here to form some sort of educational partnership with educators in Turkey. After lunch, Kadir Bey took us to the Kocatepe Mosque, the huge new white mosque in the middle of Ankara which I had always wanted to visit. I finally saw the beautiful inside of this impressive structure, said to be the largest mosque—at least in terms of the number of people it can hold at once, 24,000—in all of the Islamic world. That number includes worshippers inside the mosque as well as in the adjoining courtyards.

The highlight of the day, though, was a visit to Kadir Bey’s boyhood neighborhood. This is the part of Old Ankara called Hacettepe. The university was named after this neighborhood because the main campus is located here. (Larry teaches in an outlying campus--Beytepe). Kadir Bey’s boyhood home was razed, along with hundreds of other Ottoman era houses, to make room for the construction of the university’s medical school. Local officials, however, recognizing the significance of the remaining seven hundred year old Ottoman houses, arranged for their renovation and have created a beautiful neighborhood next to the university. In addition to renovating these gorgeous houses, the planners repaved the streets with cobblestones, and planned parks and museums to supplement the houses, which are inhabited, recreating a once vibrant neighborhood.

Walking around with Kadir Bey was a delight, as he pointed out the hospital where he was born, the schools he attended and, to my astonishment, the hamam (Turkish Bath), where I had once bathed (15 years ago) and assumed I would never find again. Someone had led me there at the time without me knowing where we actually were. Kadir Bey also ran into some old school chums, one of whom treated us to soft drinks and kofte, a Turkish meatball. We politely declined the meatballs, but they smelled awfully good; the other family with us ate them instead.

The following weekend, Larry had lots of student papers to correct, so Anna and I went off on our own. First we visited Bilkent University where she had gone to kindergarten. I’d not yet figured out how to get there by bus, but I know that there is a student service bus leaving from our neighborhood, so we waited for a long time for that bus. Alas, it never came because, as we figured out later, Bilkent follows the American academic schedule and the students are on winter break! (Hacettepe, on the other hand, where Larry teaches now, is still in session until the end of January). So instead we hopped on a city bus and hoped for the best. It dropped us off at the bottom of the university’s campus, which meant we had a very long walk up a very steep hill to the part of campus where we used to live. But we were game. First, we visited the new shopping mall on campus, where Anna bought a pair of boots and we had lunch. Then we began the climb to Dogu Kampusu (East Campus), where our former apartment and Anna’s school were located. By the time we gasped into the apartment complex (well, I was the one who gasped; my side still hurt from last week’s fall), I was hungry and thirsty again. So we stopped at our old “bakkal,” the tiny store – a shack really -- where we used to buy our daily loaf of bread and our newspaper. Refreshing ourselves with bread sticks and juice and water, we made friends with a local cat, who kept warm on our laps. After photographing Anna’s former kindergarten and our apartment building, we headed downhill to figure out how to get home. We lucked out when we saw a student bus after all (??!??), which dropped us off right in our Bache neighborhood. That was lucky.

Next day, Anna and I tried another adventure—visiting the more touristy part of Old Ankara, inside the Hisar, or fortress. A few months ago, Larry and I had joined a tour of Roman Ankara, when we visited the outer walls of the fortress, which had incorporated some Roman ruins into the construction of the walls. This time, we wanted to see the inner walls and the community that still exists within. We took the subway to Ulus, at the base of the large hill where the fortress is located. From there we took a taxi to the top of the hill, and entered the Hisar through the Clock Tower gate. Immediately we saw exactly the type of souvenir shop we have been looking for for Anna to purchase some gifts for friends back home. Beyond the shops is an old old old neighborhood. Some of the buildings, including an old han, or commercial center from centuries ago, are being or have been renovated. There are many nice restaurants and shops. And several houses have been renovated and are occupied by somewhat wealthy individuals. But by and large, this is a very poor community, with an almost impenetrable maze of alleyways, steep stone steps, and deteriorating houses centuries old. We did not get very far into the fortress for fear of getting hopelessly lost and/or falling off one of the ramparts. But it was great fun nonetheless.

Leaving the hisar, we went down the hill a bit to the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations, where, once again, I viewed many thousands of years of the history of Anatolia, or Anadolu, as it was once called. Lunch was at the same beautiful restaurant we had been to a few times before, with the gorgeous panorama of the city. Unfortunately, it was a grey, gloomy day, so the view wasn’t that great. But the lunch was good, and I’ve gotten over my reluctance to ask for a doggie bag, so we ate terrific bread with our dinner that night.

Leaving the hisar, we headed for “copper alley” in hopes of finding yet one more gift for one of Anna’s friends, preferably something in copper. Alas, we found only a few copper shops, not finding the entire street of copper makers I remembered from so long ago. Anna decided to wait until our trip to Istanbul and the Grand Bazaar to select a copper gift. More on that later. Heading down the long steep hill, I took a wrong turn and we were hopelessly lost. Finally having to ask where to find the Ulus subway station, too young men instead kindly led us to the Sihhiye station, a long but flat walk, where I was finally able to get close enough to a statue I have always wanted to photograph. This statue is a huge bronze reproduction of a small Hittite statue found in the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations. It depicts a ram and the Hittite Sun, and served as the symbol of Ankara until the symbol was changed just a few years ago. Now the official city symbol is a stylized mosque and some stars.