A Tour of Istanbul's Highlights

There is so much to see in Istanbul, it’s impossible to do everything in just one week. There are a few highlights, however, that are not to be missed, and it is possible to see Istanbul’s critical monuments in two or three days. Given more time, there is plenty to see in and around the city, depending on your interests.

Of all the sights in Istanbul, these are definitely the top (the first three are also conveniently located right next to each other):

Interior of the Ayasofya. Qur'anic calligraphy 

is visible on both sides, with a mosaic of Mary 

in the center.

Ayasofya (aka Hagia Sofia): A massive 1400-year-old structure that started as a pagan temple, was converted to a church by the Byzantines in the 5^th C, and was subsequently converted to a mosque when the Ottomans conquered Constantinople in the 15^th C. The decor preserves all of this history. The great hall features typical fixtures of a mosque (decorated wall in the direction of Mecca, platform for the Imam who leads prayer, low hanging chandeliers), as well as enormous wooden circles bearing the largest Arabic calligraphy in the world. But right next to the Islamic touches are Byzantine mosaics with images of Christ, Mary, angels and saints. These mosaics were initially covered up with plaster when the church was converted to a mosque, but when the Ayasofya was converted to a museum in the 20^th C (it is the only mosque in Istanbul that is now a museum), the plaster was removed and the mosaics carefully restored. 

The Ayasofya (right) sits opposite the Sultanahmet, or 

"Blue Mosque" (left).

Today the Ayasofya is a monument that truly represents the heritage of Islam, for Islam considers Christianity to be part of its foundations. The mausoleums of several important sultans and their families are also situated next to the Ayasofya, with some very beautiful mosaics and decoration. One of the mausoleums was designed by the master architect Sinan (see Süleymaniye).

Interior of the Sultanahmet ("Blue Mosque")

Sultanahmet (“The Blue Mosque”): This mosque stands opposite the Ayasofya, separated by a beautiful plaza. It was commissioned in the early 17^th C by Sultan Ahmet I, and built by a student of the Chief Architect Sinan (see Süleymaniye). The interior is stunning – completely covered floor to ceiling in blue decoration with red accents. The floral and geometric patterns are complimented by a border around the balcony wall composed entirely of blue Iznik tiles (Iznik tiles are a special type of tile with cobalt dyes and distinctive patterns, made in the town of Iznik not far from Istanbul). With blue light filtering in through the stained glass windows, the whole space is bathed in a soft blue glow – hence the name “Blue Mosque.”

A veranda in the Fourth Court of Topkapi.

Topkapi Palace: Of all the palaces in the world, I doubt that any can top the old Ottoman palace of Topkapi. Yes, I rank it above Versailles, Buckingham, and certainly above the Dolmabahçe (the newer palace the Ottoman sultans built in the 19^th C to impress their European counterparts) – all of which I consider disgustingly opulent. Topkapi has a different kind of elegance. It spreads horizontally and consists of four courts, each with an increased level of restriction and privacy. The first court was for public gatherings and festivals; the second for special processions and regular convening of court officials; the third for palace services (library, treasury, etc.); and the fourth strictly for the private affairs of the sultan’s family and other palace inhabitants.

And of course, there’s the Harem, where the Sultan, the Sultan’s family, and the court folk in training (concubines and page boys) lived in seclusion. The Harem has long been the subject of great intrigue in the West, simply because it housed the private lives of the imperial sultanate. Orientalists imagined the Harem as a forbidden world of indulgence and often eroticism. In reality, access to the Harem was strictly limited merely to permit the Sultan, the Sultan’s family, and the small population of courtiers and staff persons some privacy. The protocols and etiquette that evolved within these palace walls is fascinating and unique among imperial societies of the 15^th-19^th centuries. Also unique is that the Ottomans did not perpetuate the aristocracy by birthright alone: many of the young denizens that were taken into the Harem to be reared as politicians and specialists were originally slaves or prisoners of war. In what other society could a slave potentially become the Queen of an empire? Furthermore, after the Sultan chose from among the women of the Harem, the rest were free to marry and leave the palace after several years of service (e.g. as a teacher, cook, nurse, etc.). Their dowry and wedding were even paid for by the Sultan. Some of their customs might seem peculiar (e.g. making all visitors to the palace bow their heads with hands behind their back in the presence of the Sultan), but I would call their customs progressive compared to the norms of their contemporary monarchies. 

Example of an Iznik tile from Topkapi.

Although not as extensively lavish as other palaces in Europe, the decoration inside Topkapi is truly stunning. Every wall of the Harem and the verandas of the inner Fourth Court are covered with Iznik tiles (see Sultanahmet) and hand-painted with breathtaking detail. The palace also has a very pleasing spatial balance, with its large rooms and series of large courtyards. And with its Tower of Justice, the tower in the Second Court from which the Sultan could surreptitiously listen in on the court viziers' proceedings (ala the Glass Penopticon – they never knew if he was listening or not), the palace is easily recognizable as a landmark from almost anywhere on the Bosphorus (indeed, I was even able to spot it from the plane). It is truly a treasure of the ancient world.

Interior of the Süleymaniye Mosque.

Süleymaniye Mosque: This mosque is not part of the typical one or two-day pre-packaged tour, as it is a short distance from the area of the first three monuments, but I definitely rank it among the top sites to see in Istanbul.

The Süleymaniye is regarded as one of the architectural feats of the Ottoman Empire. In my personal opinion, it is the grandest and most elegant mosque in the world. Commissioned by Sultan Süleyman the Magnificent in the 16^th C, it’s interior has a striking balance and harmony between spatial grandeur and elegant but minimalist décor unlike any other mosque ever built. The Süleymaniye is the masterwork of Sinan, the Chief Ottoman Architect for almost 50 years, whose genius I would equate with Leonardo Da Vinci. The Süleymaniye sits atop a hill with a grand view of the city and the Bosphorus Straight. It also functioned as more than just a mosque – it was a dynamic public service facility complete with a school, soup kitchen, hospital, and hospice. The mausoleum of Sultan Süleyman sits behind the mosque, as well as that of Sinan himself. 

We visited other sites in Istanbul as well – the Museum of Science and Technology in Islam (which was fascinating – Muslims have contributed to every field you can think of), Prince’s Island (a beautiful summer residence island in the Sea of Marmara), the Naval Museum (lots of model ships and artifacts from Ottoman naval history), and several additional mosques (all of them gorgeous), as well as a day trip to Bursa (the old Ottoman capital before the conquest of Constantinople in the 15^th C). And there was plenty we didn’t get to. In the course of my life, I hope to comb through every level of this marvelous city. 

Istanbul: A Gem for the World

My parents and I are on a week-long vacation in Istanbul, a hiatus from my month and a half in Egypt this summer. Returning after a previous visit a year and a half ago in December 2010, I have decided that this is my favorite city in the world.*

Istanbul is an incredible place with a very unique mix of cultures. It at once mirrors many cities from both Europe and the Middle East. It is truly where the East meets the West. The streets, the transportation, the residences and shopping districts are distinctly European thanks to measures the country took to meet EU standards (lucky for Turkey, it was still rejected from the EU). But in contrast to the European feel, the city is strewn with mosques – as many as there are churches in Rome. Turkey and the Middle East have always had a strong influence on each other. The regions have much in common in terms of language, food, architecture, décor, and customs. With its geographic and cultural proximity, it’s no wonder so many Arabs come to vacation here.

Istanbul is, in my opinion, one of the most scenic cities in the world to visit. Istanbul's hilly horizon is a rolling sea of red terracotta roofs, tall minarets next to domed mosques, and satellite dishes. The deep blue waters of the Bosphorus Straight and the channel known as the Golden Horn reflect the sun by day and the city lights by night.

The weather here is sunny and beautiful this time of year. Temperatures can get up to 90 F with some humidity, but it’s bearable with the breeze from the Bosphorus. The weather wasn’t bad in the winter last time either – averages in the 60s, with some drizzling but never heavy rain. Pretty mild year round.

The food is also incredible. Typical Turkish cuisine consists of grilled meats and variations of kebabs, irresistible pita breads, rice or bulgur wheat, lentil soup, salads with cucumber and tomato and fresh olive oil, and eggplant. The Ottomans were very creative with their use of eggplant in meat dishes. The Turkish also eat a lot of lamb. I swear this is the best place in the world to eat lamb. Any style. I hear the seafood during fish season (in early fall) is also exceptional. And of course, dessert. Turkish delights, baklava, fruit preserves, and anything you can create with milk and honey… Sweets are definitely specialty of this country.

All of these factors and more - friendly people, beautiful sites, clean streets and facilities, accessible transportation, reasonable prices – make Istanbul a traveler's dream. I will definitely be rooting for Istanbul to win the next Olympic bid, because a) they are one of the few countries in the world right now who can afford it, and b) the entire world needs to witness the splendor and incredible transformation of this country – especially the Middle East, who can learn a lot from its policies and practices.

*Home doesn’t count, thus I exclude Chicago and Cairo from that ranking. 

The Current Political Chaos in Egypt

I had intended my first blog post upon my return to Egypt to comment on the current political situation, which is what I was most eager to witness and understand first hand. Over two weeks later, I am just as confused as I was before I left. What I can say is that Egyptians seem to be no less confused. I have heard tirades supporting and condemning Muhammad Mursi, the recently elected President from the Muslim Brotherhood. In general, the majority of family members I’ve talked to seem to at least think that his winning the election was the lesser of two evils, but they are still cautious to be at all optimistic. Many criticize his delay in assembling a cabinet or addressing any of the numerous pressing problems that Egypt faces (some as simple as the quality of subsidized bread for the impoverished 50% of Egypt’s population).

Everyone is pondering his strategy thus far for gaining popularity: continuing to live as an average Egyptian, and making himself very visible and accessible to the public. After he was elected, he refused to move into the presidential palace, the former residence of Mubarak. He continues to live in his apartment with his family. Some people recently met him while waiting in line for bread at a bakery. A friend of mine saw his wife walk into a mosque in our neighborhood. We passed his convoy on the highway: at least a kilometer’s worth of motorcycles and sleek black cars that held us up on the ramp for all of maybe three minutes. (This is shockingly modest compared to the ordeal Mubarak used to impose, which typically involved completely blocking several routes through Cairo that he may or may not use, often trapping people in traffic for seven or eight hours.) Mursi seems to be deliberately taking the opposite approach in order to distinguish himself from the old regime and give people the impression that he truly represents them. On night that he was elected, he stood on a platform in Tahrir Square and announced that he was not wearing a bulletproof vest. I would call this move both stupid and brilliant. I’m sure he’s just about given each of his security guards an aneurism, but regardless of his politics, I have to admire his courage and his gesture.

I have heard similarly conflicting opinions regarding Ahmad Shafik, Mursi’s opponent in the final run-off election and a former prime minister under Mubarak’s rule. Some Egyptians are still convinced that he would have been a better candidate, arguing that he demonstrated some honesty during Mubarak’s rule, and his questionable actions were pressured by his circumstance. Many others believe that a victory for Shafik would have been disastrous and a debilitating step backwards for the revolution. At least one cousin I’ve spoken to was prepared to leave the country if he had won the election. I may well have cancelled my trip to Egypt this summer if that had been the case, and I’m certain that having Shafik in power would have seriously complicated my personal and professional plans in Egypt for the immediate future. I for one am glad to see Shafik out of the picture (in fact, he fled to Abu Dhabi soon after the election was decided, because the court apparently decided to resurface the dozens of allegations against him that I suppose where conveniently suspended while he was running).

For now, I will remain cautiously optimistic about Mursi. Honestly though, I don’t expect him to accomplish anything for a while, with all the bickering and tricks going back and forth between the parliament and the SCAF (Supreme Council of the Armed Forces – the ruling body representing the military). The SCAF is still trying to hang on to whatever power they can. Case in point: their most recent move was to dissolve the parliament a couple weeks ago, claiming that the parliamentary elections had not been carried out democratically because not enough independent party candidates were permitted to run. The Constitutional Court ruled with them in this case, also declaring that the parliamentary elections had been unconstitutional and the parliament should be dismissed. Then as soon as Mursi took office, he rebuked the SCAF’s decision and declared that he intended the parliament to remain. Now the country is split between those who support Mursi’s decision and those who are damning the new president for defying the Constitutional Court. The final decision might be put to the people in a referendum.

Imagine if the American Legislative and Executive Branches were questioning each other’s authority (which goes beyond the new norm of arguing to the point of stale mate), and the Judicial Branch made a ruling to decide the matter, but then the Legislative and Executive Branches questioned the legitimacy of the Supreme Court… How in the world would anything get solved?

On top of that, people are wondering if Mursi will even still be president in six months, because technically he was elected without a constitution in place (a referendum was passed after Mubarak stepped down, deciding that the old constitution would be retained with some amendments, but apparently that’s still in the works). Some are arguing that once Egypt actually has a new constitution, a new president should come with it. 

Like I said, it may be a while before any political progress is made in Egypt. In the meantime, however, life goes on…

Learning to live as an Egyptian: Family Matters

Surrounded by family. That’s something I don’t get to experience very often. With no siblings, and the majority of my family on the east coast or the other side of the world, it is only a few times a year that I find myself in a room entirely populated with blood relatives. I’m very grateful that both of my parents have large families. Especially my dad: He is one of eight, and all of his siblings have 2-4 children, at least half of whom now have 1-3 kids. Not to mention my extended cousins, cousins of cousins, children of cousins of cousins… I meet new family members every time I come to Egypt. And all relatives here, immediate and distant, are part of the typical family scene. Aunts and uncles become like second parents. Cousins are raised like siblings. It is not uncommon for families to be living in the same neighborhood, or even the same building, as their immediate relatives. There is little priority given to degree of relation. If you’re family, you’re family, no matter how closely or distantly related.

I envy my cousins in that they all grew up together like siblings. It’s weird to be the only only-child in the family. Thanks to our annual visits to Egypt since I was a baby, my Egyptian cousins have always been in my life, though I’ve by no stretch been as integrated in their lives as they have been with each other. Because of this, I always felt a foreigner when I came to visit them. True, I saw them as much as (and sometimes more than) I saw my American cousins every year. But because families are so closely knit in Egypt, I never felt a part of that fabric. I was the special guest, the bonus cousin they saw once a year.

This is the first time I’m actually starting to feel like an integrated member of the family. And it is in no way due to the treatment I’ve received from my family in the past – they have always embraced me with open arms and unconditional love. The distance I felt was largely due to my inhibition with the language, and therefore, my understanding of the culture and lifestyle. I never realized how much of a barrier that created until I started making the effort to learn and speak Egyptian Arabic. Now that I am gaining some competency with the language, I already feel that my cousins and I have a deeper understanding of each other. Having more opportunity to spend time with my cousins alone on this trip has also meant a lot. Plus the fact that we are older and more mature now, and it’s easier to find common ground on significant topics.

Observing my father’s close relationships with his siblings, and the lengths he goes to in order to maintain good relations with the entire family – not just affection, but consistent phone calls, making sure we visit and spend time with each family member during our visits, bringing gifts when appropriate, doing favors, etc. – I’ve always wondered, with a fair amount of anxiety, how I will possibly be able to take up that mantle and maintain the same kind of ties with my cousins as we become adults and start our own families. Now I have no trouble picturing it. I already feel close enough to the entire family that I know this will never be a challenge. And I'm coming to understand how important my close family ties will be for both my personal and professional plans in Egypt in the near and distant future. 

Picking up where I left off...

I am happier than ever to be back in Egypt!! I've been anxious to return ever since I was evacuated from Cairo to Paris when the revolution began. This is about the fifth time I've planned a return trip to Egypt since then, and up until now, I've had to postpone my plans every time because of the continued political unrest in Egypt. If the outcome of the elections last week had differed, and there had been more violent demonstrations, I would have had to cancel my trip again. Thankfully, the security situation is stable enough (relative to the new norm) that I was able to arrive as planned last Tuesday.

I have spent the last week with my family, romping around Cairo and passing the time with my cousins.  I've been able to pick up where I left off a year and a half ago - that is, in terms of the progress I was making with my family relations at the time, as well as with my Arabic. Before my last trip, in which I lived in Cairo for a month while participating in a new UChicago study abroad program (we ended up spending the second month in Paris), I had always traveled to Egypt with my parents to visit my family. This was my first time in Egypt without them, and it made a big difference in the way I engaged with my relatives. I had to overcome my shyness about speaking Arabic, and I had to challenge myself to understand the Egyptian lifestyle, culture, and mentality with patience and a holistic approach. After three short weeks, I felt I had made a lot of progress, and my Arabic was improving every day. I was comfortable making my way from one end of Cairo to another, competent at haggling prices, and I felt completely at home in Egypt. Witnessing the first week of the revolution reinforced my newfound Egyptian identity and pride all the more - which made leaving the country all the more difficult. Aside from the stress of the situation, I felt I was in the middle of a critical phase that I didn't want to interrupt.

It took me a year to work up the confidence and initiative to resume studying Egyptian Arabic in earnest. Since February 2012, I have been studying Egyptian Arabic for an hour every night with my dad. He is a fantastic tutor, and I'm grateful to have had the study time with him that I did, while I also regret that I didn't start sooner. In addition to studying from a book, we've been reading "The Adventures of Tintin" in Arabic every night - very useful for picking up common expressions (and handy words like "danger," "rescue," and "pirates"), and a fun way to relive both of our childhoods. We also spoke in Arabic as much as possible, though that too I feel I did not do enough prior to this trip. Nonetheless, I felt well prepared when I arrived in Egypt. I had exceeded my previous level of competency in Arabic, and within a week of returning, I have already far exceeded my previous level of fluency.

Now, my Arabic is again improving by the day, and I seem to have reached a threshold by which many of my thoughts occur spontaneously in Arabic. Even my recent dreams have been largely in Arabic. Sometimes my brain is so amped from the constant translating that by the end of the day I have to consciously force myself to stop thinking in Arabic so I can fall asleep. But I'm elated: speaking Arabic fluently has been my sincere wish for my entire life, and while I would hardly claim to be fluent yet, I think I'm well on my way. After another month here, my competency will multiply, and I am determined to continue speaking Arabic with my parents after I leave Egypt. We've already hardly exchanged any words in English since they arrived yesterday. I hope the sense of Arabic occurring more naturally than English at home will endure.