Istanbu-log

If you ever have an opportunity to travel to Istanbul, take it. Seriously. It is one of the coolest places I have ever been to. I think I say that about a lot of places I travel to, but really, Istanbul is up there on my list.

The journey began on a rainy Wednesday night. It was a long weekend for the residents of Andalucía, in celebration of Día de Andalucia. As always, I wanted to take advantage of my not-only-three-but-four-day weekend to travel somewhere new and exotic. This dream came to fruition when a few of my friends told me they were going to Istanbul. I hopped on board as soon as I could.

In total we were a group of six or seven, depending on the day.  We weren’t all on the same flight, nor the same mode of transportation to get us to those flights, which all took off from Madrid. Some brave souls took the six-hour bus ride; others took the high-speed AVE train. De todas formas, we all arrived Thursday early/late evening and the adventure began right then and there, if not earlier (like when my suitcase broke the moment I stepped out of my apartment building and thus was traveling with a broken rolly bag the whole weekend (see photo below).

broken suitcase

Well, besides that little snafu, the voyage was rather easy. Swiss Air, my new favorite airline, made the experience very comfortable. Between the free, incredibly amazing Swiss chocolate and the friendly multilingual flight attendants (although I’m sure a few of them disliked me for my American tendencies such as asking for a coke refill) dare I say the flight was enjoyable?  Not trying to sound like an advertisement or anything…although customs in Zurich is a pain in the you know what, but that’s a story for another time.

also, this was my view for a good portion of the flight

Ok, back to Istanbul. We arrived at the hostel and right when we checked in we were welcomed by one of the friendliest hostel people I have ever encountered. We arrived a little before 8pm and he told us he was just about finished with his shift and would love to show us around town if we wanted.  We dropped our stuff in our room and freshened up and went exploring with a native! We were all pretty tired from the long day of traveling so we just went out for dinner and then came back to relax at the hostel. We ate what I consider a Turkish pizza, like it might as well have been a pizza but it was on pita bread, and it was delicious. And the food only got better from there.

We woke up the next morning at 8am, not my ideal wake up time, but it was definitely necessary if we wanted to see all the important sites in the three short days we were there. Met up with a Turkish guy one of my friends had met through 8tracks (music sharing website) and he showed us around the town. Example two of how nice and friendly Turkish people are. He could have been really sketchy and dangerous (yes, I know that’s what you are thinking parents but we were a big group in broad daylight). But he was quite the contrary. He was a genuinely good guy. He wanted to show us around the city he grew up in. He asked us what we wanted to see in our time in Istanbul, and also gave us recommendations, and he helped us plan out our days. I’m really happy that he stayed with us for the two full days we were there. When in a foreign city it can be really hard to find your way around, especially when you don’t speak a word of the language. So it was nice to have a personal tour guide, but also just great to get to know a local dude and an awesome DJ...check him out, DJ Batu. 

In our 48 hours together, he not only showed us a lot of Istanbul but also taught us (me at least) a lot about Turkey. Ashamed to admit it but I did not know that Turkey is not a part of the European Union, in fact most of Turkey isn’t even in Europe but in Asia. I blame this embarrassment on the fact that the importance of geography is not stressed in American schools, at least it wasn’t in mine. Or I slept through that unit…

Besides the things Google Maps could have taught me, I also found out that military service is mandatory in Turkey. Never knew that. There is a way to get out of it, however. If you leave the country for employment or studying purposes, you can essentially “defer” your service. If you stay living long enough outside of Turkey, you can pay so that you are never called to service. Of course, only people who can afford it can pay the fee. Our tour guide friend, Batu, told me all about this while we were on our ferry trip from the European side of Istanbul to the Asian side (cool! one city, two continents). All the others had fallen asleep (it was towards the end of the second day) and I, uncharacteristically, was the only one who stayed awake with Batu, with a few others chiming in now and then when they heard something interesting. He told me how he had to decide where he wants to live next year because he can’t stay in Turkey. Naturally, I wondered why, and so began the lesson about Turkish military service.

Separately, I also learned that although Turkey has a reputation for being a conservative Muslim country where it is forbidden to sell/drink alcohol (not true!), only about 40% of the population practices the religion, and I learned that although few, there are Jews (and alcohol) there!

the local beer (don't have pictures of any jews)

Even though the majority of the population isn’t practicing, there are still many signs of Islam being the dominant religion in the country. Living in Spain, I am used to Sunday being the day of rest when EVERYTHING is closed. I was surprised when we were walking around on a Friday afternoon and all the shops were either closed or closing. It reminded me a lot of “siesta” in Spain, but I was pretty sure this Spanish custom hadn’t made its way to Turkey yet. Then, when I saw herds of people making their way to the nearest mosque, or taking off their shoes and laying out mats to pray, it all made a little more sense. Also, I heard the call to prayer, which I remember hearing when I was in Morocco a few years ago, so this time I wasn’t as alarmed as I was back then when I heard Islamic chants throughout the city, beautiful but alarming.

ritual washing of the feet before prayer

stop, drop, and pray (in the gran bazaar)

Also, regarding stereotypes, I was very surprised at how modern and westernized the city was; I would even say it was a little more international than Sevilla (not that Sevilla is known for being international, but it is where I live, so I made the comparison). There were stores from all over the world: The North Face, Zara, Gucci, Prada. These stores juxtapose the local, more “typical” stores: the Gran Bazaar (where I was given a free sample of Turkish delight and then had whispered in my ear that it was an aphrodisiac…), the Spice Market, all street vendors in general. There is a newer, modern part of the city that feels like it is a world away from historic city center.

cool display in the gran bazaar

 

One day we ate lunch at a food court type place inside a mall in the modern part of the city. There were so many options from typical Turkish food, to hamburgers to WAGAMAMA (if I wasn’t in Turkey for only three days I would have gone back to eat there for sure!). Seeing that we had so little time, we wanted to eat as much typical grub as possible. So our big group (think we were all 7 that day) sat down for lunch at the Doner Kebab part of the food court. I looked around and realized we were probably some of the only, if not THE only non-locals eating in this food court. I found it humorous that all of us Americans were eating kebabs, while there were natives at the hamburger stand and the steakhouse and Nathan’s (yes, there was a Nathan’s in Istanbul, Turkey and no there is not one in Spain).

I could go on forever with observations and reflections, interesting anecdotes I learned or experienced, and silly quotes from my travel mates who, along with me, reached delirium shortly after arriving in Istanbul. But I won’t.

I will however leave you with this conundrum of mine. I understand that the White House is called such because of its white colored exterior, and that the Leaning Tower of Pisa has its name because it leans. By this logic, shouldn’t “The Blue Mosque” in Istanbul be, I don’t know, blue. The guidebooks say it has its name because of the blue tiles adorning the walls of its interior (actually gotta give Wikipedia credit for that line), but from what I saw, it wasn’t overwhelmingly blue. Sure it had some blue tiles here and there BUT not enough to warrant the name…see for yourself:

Upon further inquiry, I learned that the name Blue Mosque is only its nickname to tourists; I think whoever coined the name might have been colorblind. In Turkish, the name more appropriately translates to “The Sultan Ahmed Mosque,” named for the Sultan who ruled during the mosque’s construction.

When I went to visit the “blue” mosque, I decided to wear blue so I would blend in.

Oh, and also, if you turn Turkish coffee upside down when you get to the bottom of it, you can see your future.

PS-Please forgive my cheesy post title

PPS-I have a lot of pictures that I promise I will post to facebook one day. and ill link the pictures here. 

PPPS-In the mean time, for your viewing pleasure: HARLEM SHAKIN'

Spanish Ex-SPA-rience

A couple weeks ago I experienced something for the first time here in Spain, a spa treatment. And I decided it was worthy of a post. Normally while I am here I prefer to save my money for things like traveling (see upcoming post about Istanbul), eating out and of course a little bit of shopping (and rent and utilities and all the boring stuff). However, I was given an opportunity (thanks groupon!) that I couldn’t turn down: manicure, pedicure, back massage and facial treatment all for 19€!

I bought the groupon with a couple of other friends. We were going to go together and have a girl’s spa day. Unfortunately bad news broke when we called to make the appointments, the spa could only accommodate two at a time. Since there were five of us we went in two groups of two, and one brave soul had to go in alone.

I was given the last slot of the three appointment times we were given. Having heard nothing from the girls who went before me, I did not know what to expect. I walked over to the place with my time slot buddy (in the pouring rain). We did not know exactly where we were going; we only knew a street address. As the numbers got closer and closer to our destination, the street became more and more deserted, looked like the street belonged to ghost town. I knew we were parallel to one of the most popular hang out spot in Sevilla so I wasn’t nervous or anything like that, it was just a little disconcerting. Also, it was pouring rain so this is really just my perception of my surroundings without really having seen anything because when I walk with an umbrella the only thing I see is the ground two feet in front of me.

So, we finally arrived at our destination, number 89. Good year. Like everything else on the street, it was an unmarked storefront. There was a door but the metal grate that stores put up so no one robs them when they are closed was a little bit covering the door. We tried to open it, but it appeared to be locked. Have I mentioned it was pouring rain? I went around to the other side of the store (it was on a corner), no door there! So, this was the door. But how do you get inside? Duh, the doorbell.

After double-checking that we were in fact in the right place, we rang the doorbell. But the adventure was not over yet.

A cheerful, bubbly Spanish woman with a fuzzy black grandma style sweater opened the door for us. She kindly told us that we would have to wait a little bit because she hadn’t yet finished with our friends. The waiting room was a mixture of what I consider a typical spa waiting room and someone’s living room. Comfortable chairs though, so I can’t complain. Now I don’t know about you, but when I don’t know exactly what I am about to experience, I get a little anxious. So when that “little bit” I had to wait turned into half an hour…you can only imagine.

Finally it was my turn! I went into a room with aforementioned bubbly Spanish woman’s compañera. I saw a massage table so I thought I would get my massage and facial in this room and then get transferred to the other room for the manicure/pedicure. Well, I was right indeed about this being the massage/facial room, but little did I know this would also be the manicure/pedicure room. The whole 90-minute treatment on the massage table!

I got a very relaxing back rub from the compañera, lights off and heat on. Then the other lady came in and said she was going to take over to do the facial. Turned off the heat, turned on the lights and exposed the hospital white walls. Maybe I am just spoiled from the past spa experiences I have had, but for me, ambience is somewhat important. I was relaxed from the back massage and then immediately jolted into another state of consciousness. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy the facial, I really did, but I prefer the lights to be dimmed and relaxing ocean sounds in the background while I am in a spa. But this is partially my fault for expecting a “spa” experience. After all the groupon did advertise it as a “wellness mix”, whatever that means…

I am not sure if I am accurately expressing my experience. When I read over this blog, it seems like I didn’t enjoy myself, but really quite the contrary.  I had a great time.

Fuzzy sweater lady had a personality that one might find on a TV land sitcom, reminded me a little of Lucy from I love Lucy.  It seemed like every five minutes she was getting up to fetch something she had left in the other room: her glasses, the acetone, face cream etc. She also repeatedly put her glasses down somewhere, couldn’t remember where, and since she couldn’t see without her glasses couldn’t see where in the room she had left them! It is beyond me why someone who can’t see without glasses would take them off. I suppose we all have our quirks.

Not surprisingly (given that my appointment started half an hour late), there was some prisa (rushing) towards the end of my appointment. So there’s me lying down on a massage bed, having my fingernails painted by one lady, and toenails painted by another. I was asked what color I wanted my nails painted but in the end it didn’t really matter what I wanted. I asked what my options were and Lucy said I’ll bring you some choices. Turns out if I didn’t want green or transparent, I had two option, red or purple. Quite the change from the 150 options I have when I go to a nail salon in the USA. Made my life a little easier though. For anyone who hasn’t ever gotten a manicure with me, I usually spend about 15 minutes deliberating over which shade of purple I want as if it is the last manicure I will ever get. So I chose red. Well, when your fingernails and toenails are being painted at the same time, surprise surprise, they can’t both be the same color. So it was, purple on the fingers and red on my toes. Never been one to match my hands to my toes anyway.