Strasbourg!

The Coptic papyrology summer school at Strasbourg was FUN. Basically I hung out with a bunch of other Coptic nerds from Europe and the US. We listened to lectures about palaeography, Shenoute, bilingual archives, what have you—then we all went out for a big meal accompanied by many glasses of beer and wine. I even got my own swank room to stay in all week!



My papyrus was a letter written to an important monk by a couple of guys who were keen to visit and pray in a holy place, and who had sent some kind of liturgical gift basket (the papyrus was only 2/3 intact so I missed the exciting details). We worked all day, stayed out for a good part of the night, and in general had a blast together. I got to see old friends from Yale who have been in Germany all year and met new friends who will meet up with me at conferences for years to come. The week was tiring, but I think everyone was just a little bit sad to leave.

Back in Paris

I am currently sitting at a McDonald's in Paris (my hostel is not the most comfortable of places), but will later be going to a picnic hosted by a friend from college. My last day in Istanbul was great. I went for one more big walk, then stopped off in the Grand Bazaar for just a little more shopping. Unlike the the bazaars of Syria, the Grand Bazaar is a peculiar mix of old-fashioned and modern.



Although some stores sell interesting and exotic goods, many have resorted to selling counterfeit designer clothes, shoes, handbags, watches, you name it. One of the store owners said that brand representatives routinely walk through the bazaar and try to shut down operations whose fakes are just too good—so they hide all of the best replicas in the back rooms until customers come looking for them. Dan's old shoes are dead after years of valiant service, so he is now oufitted with a fine pair of "Lacoste" shoes. I confess I picked up a shirt with a Macy's cut but a Burberry print.



The most disturbing (but interesting) area of the bazaar is the area where they sell small animals. You can pick from boxes and boxes of chicks and ducklings, sympathize with sad puppies who haven't sold and are growing too big for their cages, purchase leeches, and even consider investing in a $2500 toucan. I felt bad for the parrots, especially, because they looked so bored and miserable.



The spice bazaar still has some shops piled high with fragrant wares, but is now dotted with knockoff purse shops and the like.



My last stop of the day was Çemberlitaş Hamamı, a historic Turkish bath that has been around since the 1500s. It is pretty touristy now, but I had a great experience. After coughing up a significant wad of cash, I was led to a locker room where I changed into hamam-provided underwear and a body wrap. I was led into a steamy room where I lay on a hot stone and sweated for a good while. I felt a little awkward at first—I have never just run around topless before—but I got over it pretty fast. Then an attendant came over and gave me a full scrub, rubbing me down with a rough glove to remove sickening amounts of dead skin. Then she soaped me up, shampooed me, and gave me a good rinse. I got to chill in the jacuzzi for a while, and was then led to another room for a half-hour oil massage. I emerged from the bath relaxed, fragrant and cleaner than I have been since, oh, May. It was fantastic.

I'm just spending one night in Paris—tomorrow we're off to Strasbourg for a week of Coptic madness. A look at the schedule tells me that we will be reading and discussing lots of Shenoute, which sounds heavenly to me after a two-month hiatus. Oh Shenoute, it has been too long!

Istanbul Sightseeing, Part 2

On Thursday Dan and I headed down to the harbor and caught a ferry to get to the Sakıp Sabancı Museum (SSM), where there is currently an exhibit on the centuries-long history of Istanbul. There are Bosphorus cruises galore, most of which last 1.5-2 hours, but you can also catch the ferry cruise that will give you a scenic boat ride and then let you off at one of the stops. There were some stunning views, although it's a bit hard to enjoy them with people mobbing either side of the boat as lovely buildings appear.



The exhibit started out a bit slow (prehistory does not do it for me), but before long we were looking at some really killer objects, such as illuminated manuscripts, amusing drawings of patriarchs, and an icon that looked like a painting but was actually a mosaic composed of countless teeny tiles. Our next stop was Chora Church, which sports some of the best mosaics in existence. Seriously, they were amazing. Look at the way Peter reflects divine light! (Well, the sun...)



One room in the church also has some pretty impressive paintings, including this one of the Anastasis:



I took an ungodly number of photos in this church, there were so many beautiful things to look at. There were also some less-beautiful but highly amusing images, such as this dude with a skin disease:



Once we made it back to the Bosphorus, I treated myself to a delicious fish sandwich. Everyone crowds around the dock on little stools at short tables. They get sandwiches by walking up to these young guys on rocking boats, who work grills covered with cuts of fish. The guys just flip fish onto some bread, and add lettuce and onions, and hand over your meal. Lemon juice is at the table so you can use it liberally—I slathered it on bigtime.

Istanbul Sightseeing

Yesterday I started out with a trip to the Topkapi Palace, a gigantic residence for Ottoman sultans. The place is always packed to the brim, and it's pretty miserable trying to see most of the small rooms with objects on display (lots of jewel encrustation going on—those sultans were rich dudes). There are four enormous courtyards where state business and other activities were conducted, which are all generally pretty but nothing to lose your head about. The private quarters, however, are totally worth the extra admission fee. That's right, "private quarters."



If you must share your man with a bajillion other women, you might as well do it in style. And those ladies got to live in total luxury. The entire harem area was decorated with a blitz of colored tiles and painted ceilings. There was never a moment when I didn't have something interesting to look at. I had been feeling a bit ho-hum about Topkapi Palace until it was harem time.



After Topkapi, I headed over to the nearby Archaeological Museum, where I was treated to some of the best sarcophagi I have ever seen in my life. The sculptures were great, too, although it was tough to see them because I kept stumbling into members of a figure drawing class. On the plus side, they were pretty good!



Looking at sarcophagi can be a little disorienting, because the friezes are some of the liveliest things you will ever see. People are captured weeping or dining, horse riding or just laying an arm across a relative's shoulders. But then they show you some skeletons to remind you what all of that dramatic sculpture is made to conceal.



That didn't keep me from feeling excited about the sarcophagi, though. Here are the famous mourning women, who look like they might start moving at any moment:



After these morning adventures, I met up with Dan and we moseyed over to Istiklal, one of the most famous streets in Istanbul. An ancient street car still runs up and down between all of the European-style shops and eateries. Dan and I stopped at a dessert place called Mado, where we had some of the best kunaifa imaginable. The cheese was still all stretchy when we cut it apart, and it was topped with a dollop of smooth ice cream.



We also noticed that a local museum had an exhibit of orientalist paintings, which depict Istanbul as an exotic place, full of mystery. Even better, they have a Botero exhibit right now, so we were able to take in some great modern paintings too. If you don't know who Botero is off the top of your head, he is "the guy who paints fat people." More interesting however is that he's the guy who does lots of paintings about circus people and matadors, which I find lurid and intriguing. The painting that made me laugh, though, was "Vatican Bathroom." A masterpiece indeed!



The orientalist paintings were also amazing. Today's Istanbul is a mixture of the foreign and familiar, but those paintings were giving me a wild fairy tale land filled with turbans, litters and veiled ladies. Who knew I was visiting such a wild place?

Istanbul/Constantinople

After yet another tiring journey on a night bus, we arrived in Istanbul yesterday! Since most of the hotels are in the Sultanahmet district, one of the very first things we got to see was the Hagia Sophia reaching up to heaven. It is unfortunately closed on Mondays, so we waited until today to pay a visit.



Our first big stop was the Blue Mosque, which is directly across from Hagia Sophia and adds to the overall monumental feeling of the area. The interior is plastered with tiles in blue with splashes of white and red. For once I didn't have to put on special clothes because my legs and arms were fully covered! We were permitted to chill out in the visitor section until prayer time, when the mosque is cleared of tourists.



Next we went to see the inside of a Byzantine water cistern, which was cool, damp, dark, and fascinating. The remaining water was populated by enormously fat fish, some so fat that their backs stuck up out of the shallow water to accommodate enormous bellies. There were also strange modern art exhibits interspersed throughout, which was a pretty neat idea. One area had hanging lights that made me feel like I was in Avatar with columns or something.



There were also a couple of totally awesome pillars depicting Medusa's head.



Today we went to a very impressive mosaic museum, where we got to see conservators working to clean off centuries worth of grime and restore the natural tile colors. Check out the color difference in this vicious claws:



The Byzantine mosaics on display here were absolutely phenomenal. They primarily consisted of images from nature, including beast hunts and various scenes of animals attacking each other. A monkey tried to catch birds from a tree, an old man milked a goat, and an elephant choked a lion, all in very vivid detail.



Finally we came to the big event of the day—Hagia Sophia. While the church usually generates rave reviews, Mark Twain called it "the rustiest old barn in heathendom" and commented that "the people who go into ecstasies over St. Sophia must surely get them out of the guidebook." The Emperor Justinian, on the other hand, was awed at the work he sponsored and commented, "Solomon, I have surpassed you!" This could either be a reference to the biblical Solomon or to Anicia Juliana, an aristocratic woman who was far from Justinian's number one fan. Before Hagia Sophia, the church she had built was the biggest one around and was a bit of a challenge to Justinian. It contains an inscription comparing Juliana to Solomon, and the church was based on the biblical descriptions of Solomon's temple. In the great church-off, however, Hagia Sophia definitely wins—while the dome in the Blue Mosque is supported by thick columns, the dome of Hagia Sophia floats effortlessly above the ground, creating a wide open space filled with warm light that reflects off of the windows lined with golden mosaic tiles.



Hagia Sophia was eventually converted to a mosque, and then to a museum, but there are still plenty of interesting mosaics scattered around the place. There are some fabulous depictions of famous Christians like Ignatius of Antioch and John Chrysostom, as well as Jesus, the Virgin, John the Baptist, and a number of emperors.



My favorite was a depiction of Justinian offering Hagia Sophia to the infant Christ, while Constantine the Great offers Constantinople itself. Mark Twain, I must respectfully disagree with you!



I ended my night with a whirling dervish show called "800 Years of Love," which sounds a bit odd but was a fun show. It lasted about an hour and started with a concert featuring traditional Sufi music. The guy playing some kind of autoharp was particularly talented, but he was also very short and needed a foot stand to rest his feet and keep his lap steady enough for the instrument! After some increasingly frenetic music, the dervishes finally appeared, looking very serious indeed except for one who seemed like he was about to start laughing at himself at any moment. After a ceremonial bow, they began to whirl, their skirts suddenly taking flight as they turned in tight circles, their arms reaching up into the air, fingers of the right hand curled upward and fingers of the left hand turned to the ground. Their faces were schooled into masks of cool politeness, their eyes most of the way closed. Were they really channeling the divine?

Ephesus and More!

On Sunday Dan and I took a night bus from Fethiye to Aydin, transferred from there to Didim, and didn't have to wait long before one of our professors, Vasileios, and his wife, Orgu, picked us up in a rental car for a day of ancient city hopping. We couldn't have had better companions, especially since Orgu has done extensive archaeological work in Turkey and was able to give us the lowdown. Our first stop was the temple at Didyma, which once housed an oracle second only in importance to the one at Delphi. We made a quick stop at Miletus to catch a glimpse of the amphitheater, then moved on to Priene, which is a beautiful city dramatically set against a mountain. We saw the remains of a stadium, a church, and a Hellenistic style amphitheater. I could definitely get used to having my own VIP theater seat!



Ephesus comprises much more than just the ancient city. We started with the Basilica of St. John, where St. John's tomb is supposed to be located. It was later converted to a mosque, and even later flattened. Modern reconstructions can fortunately give us a good idea of what the place looked like. Next stop was the Ephesus Museum, which was fantastic. It was filled with all kinds of interesting sculptures, including a few of many-breasted Artemis.



We also got to see a statue of Domitian that looked like a giant murderous baby. No wonder nobody liked that guy.



Before hitting the site of Ephesus itself, we stopped by the alleged house of the Virgin Mary, who is said to have been brought to the area by St. John after Jesus entrusted her to his care. The house itself was hunted down based on the visions of a dying nun. While there is a steep 12.50 TL admission fee, the ticket will inform you that this money is not actually an admission fee—it is a donation made for the upkeep of the area where Mary's house is located. There is a long pathway to get you all jazzed up for the house itself, which is... just a house. Photos are forbidden inside, but honestly you aren't missing anything. All of the hype just prepares you for a statue of Mary with some flowers around it.



Outside there is an area where you can light votive candles, and beyond that there are faucets that relay water from the sacred spring. The gift shop sells special bottles for you to fill with said water. The last thing you see is a wall completely covered with notes asking for help, guidance, and happiness. We even saw multiple heartbreaking requests for the safety of a missing girl. Even though Mary's house itself was nothing special at all, the pilgrimage activity surrounding it makes the area into something special.



Ephesus the city was pretty spectacular—there are plenty of inscriptions still in place, as well as another amphitheater, some terrace houses, a market place, and a colonnaded main street. One of my favorite parts was the library facade, which was decorated with sculptures and invoked all kinds of wonderful things for the main donor, Celsus. We also got a kick out of the graffito that allegedly points the way to a brothel. Orgu, who knows a ton about Ephesus and gave us an amazing guided tour, mentioned that according to some sources prostitutes would wear shoes with the equivalent of "For a good time, follow me!" printed on the soles, so that lascivious men could follow them home.



And then there was the impressively well-preserved latrine, which featured very smooth seats but, at least by modern standards, left you a little too close to your neighbor for comfort.

ON A BOAT

The cruise was a blast—all napping, occasional visits to small charming towns, and swimming in cool clear Mediterranean water. Most of the time we could see the bottom, and I watched fish travel across the sea floor in mysterious caravans. The white (whiter) patches of my exposed skin sting a bit, and it looks like the sun attempted to color them in with a pink crayon, but I don't mind. At night, we slept on the deck under the stars, and saw the occasional one shoot across the sky and disappear. Our delicious meals were cooked by the captain's wife, and his sons caught fish with basket traps and with fishing wire that they held in their bare hands. The only hitch was bad weather on the second morning that caused the boat to rock like crazy and made some of us seasick (fortunately not me). To go to the bathroom, you had to go down to the cabins where you stood a good chance of getting thrown against a wall by all the rocking and pitching. Overall, though, I kind of enjoyed it. It reminded me of an amusement park ride, albeit one that refused to end.



Our companions on the cruise were all fun people, including one Englishman, a couple of teachers from Boston, and a bunch of Australian twentysomethings. Everyone was nice and a blast to spend time with. We bonded over things like Luna (a mysterious butter-like substance found nowhere in nature) and getting in trouble with a neighboring boat for blasting our music too loudly. I felt so relaxed on the boat that I would have gladly spent a few more days sailing.

Now, though, Dan and I are charging our laptops, phones, and iPods at the cruise company hotel. At midnight, a shuttle will take us to the station for a night bus to Aydin, where we will catch a connection to Didim (ancient Didyma). I'm excited—we're going to meet up with one of our professors and go on a marathon site visit.

Silifke

Yesterday Dan and I went on yet another Thecla pilgrimage, this time to a cave in Silifke (formerly Seleucia) where she allegedly disappeared into the rocks to escape from some more rapacious Roman soldiers. We checked in at the Otel Ayatekla, where the A/C is more like wishful thinking, but where the beds are clean, the shower is hot, and the employees are incredibly nice. A few kilometers from town is Ayatekla, which consists of the remains of a "cistern," part of a basilica built to serve Thecla devotees, and the sacred cave.



Honestly the ruins aren't much to look at, and the scenery is pretty bleak. But the cave was truly fitting for a saintly abode, beginning with this elaborate gate:



The cave was small, moist, cool, and home to a giant Thecla icon. The lights around the icon weren't working, but that didn't stop us!



After paying our respects to St. Thecla, we made our way over to Narlikuyu, where we took a break at at one of the restaurants surrounding a gorgeous cove filled with clear blue Mediterranean water. At first we just sipped beer and watched the crabs creeping across the rocks next to us, but eventually I couldn't help it anymore. I stripped down to my shorts and sports bra, then jumped in. Dan eventually gave in, too. It was the most refreshing moment of the day.



We finally made our way to the caves of Heaven and Hell, a way up the hill from the cove. The "Hollow of Heaven" starts out as a mildly interesting gorge filled with trees and beautiful flowers, until suddenly a church appears out of nowhere. Even more striking is the fact that the church teeters on the edge of the abyss—the Cave of Hell.



As we passed the church the stairs became extremely slippery. Who knew it could take so much effort to go to hell? I picked my way down with agonizing slowness, made even more agonizing by the fact that I had rolled my ankle on an earlier set of smooth stairs. The worn stones leading into the cave were slick and wet, except for the ones with a sufficient coating of sticky mud. The temperature suddenly dropped, causing me to shiver in my still-damp clothes. The lights in the cave suffused it with a greenish glow, and as we went deeper inside we could hear a distant roar. It is actually a stream of running water, but it's hard to resist fantasizing that you are listening to the distant screams of the damned.



As you turn around to look towards the light, you can see fellow visitors slipping and sliding their way back up the stairs like sinners working their way up through purgatory. Before long, we too were scrambling back up to paradise.



After a night bus trip to Antalya and a connection to Olympos, Dan and I are currently chilling out in a town filled with backpacker beach bums. I spent a few delightful hours on the beach just now, sunning myself and swimming in calm, clear water. After tonight, I will be offline for a few days because we are going on a three night, four day cruise from Olympos to Fethiye. I am looking forward to a few days of relaxation and total lack of responsibility.

Cappadocia

Göreme is a favorite tourist town in Cappadocia, the region of the world that produced some of Christianity's best writers and thinkers, notably Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory Nazianzus. Now it is best known for its "fairy chimneys" and painted churches. Fairy chimneys are hollowed-out rock cones that now often contain hotel rooms. I'm not sure what is fairylike (or chimney-like) about them, but they are wondrous to behold.



There is an open-air museum a short walk from the town that contains numerous impressive churches, painted with varying levels of artistic skill. Some are walls are smeared with childlike drawings, while others, like the Dark Church, feature some of the most impressive paintings I have ever seen. Photos are forbidden, but given that I know better than to use flash and that I paid multiple huge admission fees to see all of this stuff, I decided to take some anyway. Here is a church that, while charming, seems to have been decorated with a red crayon:



And here is a wild photo from the Dark Church, which is so named because it has only one window that lets in little light. This is actually a great thing because the low lighting has allowed the brightness of the paintings to be preserved. Tragically, many of the wall paintings in this region, especially faces, are damaged because an iconoclastic movement decided that images of humans and animals should be forbidden. The iconoclasts then proceeded to ruin everybody else's fun. Fortunately the Dark Church is lookin' good.



Today, we started out with a trip to Kaymakli, one of Cappadocia's many underground cities (though only a few are open to the public). They are exactly what they sound like—tunnels in the earth that lead to rooms inhabited by various people at various time periods. The cities are most closely associated with Christians on the run from hostile invaders, but are mentioned in much earlier sources. Some of the tunnels were miserably cramped and tight, and while I could fit through them I felt and heard my backpack scraping against the moist ceiling. I hit my head more than four times today because nobody was considerate enough to build for someone of my height! Dan had an even harder time of it because he is a giant even by today's standards.



The tunnels were also packed with tour groups, complete with crappy guides who pressed us to pay them for a tour, threatening that we would otherwise remain painfully uninformed forever. There were, however, plenty of side rooms to explore without too much interruption. It was fun to be in a moist, cool place and away from the sun for a while, but I would definitely rather live above ground!



After the underground city, we climbed up to the top of a nearby "castle," which wasn't much of a castle but provided some great views. Then we decided to walk home through one of the valleys leading back to Göreme and equipped with a well-trodden dirt path. Most of the valleys here are popular destinations for hikers and tourists on horseback. Göreme is a haven for ranchers and companies offering rides in hot air balloons. I would love to try a balloon ride, but at 110 Euros for an hour they are a bit beyond my budget! The entire landscape is dotted with deep gorges topped by caps of less-eroded rock, creating a peculiarly phallic effect.



Unfortunately for us, the way back to town was not clear in this particular valley. We were about to get stuck when a helpful local man discovered us and led the way to the correct route, which was steep, slippery, and not clear at all. Of course, once he had led us to safety he concocted a story about needing a huge amount of money to travel to Istanbul for his twins' birth, but we didn't give him nearly what he asked. The scenery was absolutely beautiful, but I spent a good amount of the time too stressed out to enjoy it. If I am ever in the mood to do this again (a big if), I will definitely insist on a better-trodden route.



Tomorrow will be a travel day, and the bulk of it will be spent on a long bus ride to Silifke (formerly Seleucia), which is home to yet another St. Thecla shrine. I'm excited!