A couple of interesting items.
1. Turkish or Greek coffee asks this article from NPR. I've had both, and prefer Americano. I know there are other disagreements in this part of the world about food and their origins. Yogurt for example. Presently Greek yogurt is the marketing meme du jour. Yet Yogurt is a Turkish word. What's with that?
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thesalt/2013/04/27/179270924/dont-call-it-turkish-coffee-unless-of-course-it-is?ft=1&f=1001
2. Saw this on the Hurrieyet Daily News. An interesting exhibit, unfortunately ends about five weeks too soon for us.
http://www.hurriyetdailynews.com/centuries-old-maps-on-display-at-istanbuls-topkapi-palace-with-new-exhibit.aspx?pageID=238&nID=45877&NewsCatID=375
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Huzun
To get to know other cultures and peoples is a commonly cited reason for foreign travel. I suspect we over estimate our ability to gain understanding. Portlandia did a bit in which a couple that returned from a vacation in Spain was invited to a tapas restaurant for a birthday party. Their two weeks in Iberia was sufficient to make them all knowing of Spanish culture. A great asset to have when sharing tapas somewhere in Portland, and they took advantage of their new found knowledge.
In reality it's not easy to become such an expert. As tourists we're busy making arrangements for transportation, lodging, admissions to sites and events, standing in lines, hurrying to finish one site to make it to the next, looking for a perfect photo subject, shopping for unique trinkets that express our identity, wondering what to eat, admiring the major sites and awkwardly asking how much does it cost.
Our observations of local life may be from sitting in a piazza enjoying a scoop of gelato, watching the passers by. And likely, many of those people we're watching are tourists or people catering to the tourists. We may venture into neighborhoods away from the crowded tourist paths, take photos of real houses and real streets and maybe even real people, and eat at a restaurant only the locals eat. How well do we understand now?
My sister Kay told me of a dream she had while travelling alone as a young woman. She dreamt that a gentleman told her that (was it Paris?) is like a beautiful woman. You visit, are taken in by her beauty and you think you know her. But you do not. To get to know her you need time with her, plenty of time. A short vacation just won't get you there.
My introduction to Turkey was from travel shows such as Rick Steves, Rudy Maxa and Anthony Bourdain. These shows, like a tourists' itenerary, provide a small peek at the beautiful woman (or ladies, if you prefer, that rugged young man). Time, budget and market considerations of the videomakers of that genre make it necessarily so. The travel shows like to present an Istanbul that is up and coming, modern and secular yet deeply religious, the glorious Byzantine and Ottoman histories preserved in its mosques, museums, ancient structure and palaces, exciting markets, great food, and hospitality of the people.
In contrast, my pre- trip reading has presented a different, far more complex and difficult Turkey to understand. In his memoir on Istanbul, Orhan Pamuk introduces his readers to an Istanbul characteristic called huzun, apparently a difficult word to translate, but roughly refers to a pervasive melancholy. Geert Mak, a Dutch writer wrote a touching profile of Istanbul called The Bridge. Centered around the Galata Bridge, its denizens and its place in the history of the city, he provides his readers with a street level sampling of huzun.
The travel show observations are not wrong. Rather, they're just sorely incomplete. My original intent of this post was to compare and contrast between the Istanbul of TV versus the that of Mak. But now seems a bit silly, as the picture Mak paints, complex and nuanced as it is, is necessarily incomplete as well.
As so too will be my own personal understanding, even after the sites have been seen, foods eaten, hookahs sampled, books read, and History Channel episodes watched. I can only hope to come home with a new appreciation of Turkey and Crete, incomplete though it surely will be.
In reality it's not easy to become such an expert. As tourists we're busy making arrangements for transportation, lodging, admissions to sites and events, standing in lines, hurrying to finish one site to make it to the next, looking for a perfect photo subject, shopping for unique trinkets that express our identity, wondering what to eat, admiring the major sites and awkwardly asking how much does it cost.
Our observations of local life may be from sitting in a piazza enjoying a scoop of gelato, watching the passers by. And likely, many of those people we're watching are tourists or people catering to the tourists. We may venture into neighborhoods away from the crowded tourist paths, take photos of real houses and real streets and maybe even real people, and eat at a restaurant only the locals eat. How well do we understand now?
My sister Kay told me of a dream she had while travelling alone as a young woman. She dreamt that a gentleman told her that (was it Paris?) is like a beautiful woman. You visit, are taken in by her beauty and you think you know her. But you do not. To get to know her you need time with her, plenty of time. A short vacation just won't get you there.
My introduction to Turkey was from travel shows such as Rick Steves, Rudy Maxa and Anthony Bourdain. These shows, like a tourists' itenerary, provide a small peek at the beautiful woman (or ladies, if you prefer, that rugged young man). Time, budget and market considerations of the videomakers of that genre make it necessarily so. The travel shows like to present an Istanbul that is up and coming, modern and secular yet deeply religious, the glorious Byzantine and Ottoman histories preserved in its mosques, museums, ancient structure and palaces, exciting markets, great food, and hospitality of the people.
In contrast, my pre- trip reading has presented a different, far more complex and difficult Turkey to understand. In his memoir on Istanbul, Orhan Pamuk introduces his readers to an Istanbul characteristic called huzun, apparently a difficult word to translate, but roughly refers to a pervasive melancholy. Geert Mak, a Dutch writer wrote a touching profile of Istanbul called The Bridge. Centered around the Galata Bridge, its denizens and its place in the history of the city, he provides his readers with a street level sampling of huzun.
The travel show observations are not wrong. Rather, they're just sorely incomplete. My original intent of this post was to compare and contrast between the Istanbul of TV versus the that of Mak. But now seems a bit silly, as the picture Mak paints, complex and nuanced as it is, is necessarily incomplete as well.
As so too will be my own personal understanding, even after the sites have been seen, foods eaten, hookahs sampled, books read, and History Channel episodes watched. I can only hope to come home with a new appreciation of Turkey and Crete, incomplete though it surely will be.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Turkish Cooking Part I
Okay I admit it doesn't look pretty. It tasted fine, kinda like stuffed green peppers. The herbs (dill and italian parsely) gave it a subtle flavor. Cathy and I both thought it needed some more oomph. That's why we have rooster sauce on the shelf. The anaheim pepper was the best part.
Stay tuned, more cooking experiments to come. Yum.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Extending the vacation experience with lots of reading
Friday, April 5, 2013
Summer vacation is approaching
After rereading my previous attempt at a vacation blog (cathyandjohninitaly.blogspot.com) I decided it would be kinder to any readers and gentler on me if I cut down on the jibber- jabber in favor of a photo based blog (along with a few of my famous not so witicisms). So my spring assignment is to figure out how to get the photos on the blog with the technology I'll have it tow. I fear it is easier said than done.
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