Kelly and I spent the afternoon preparing thanksgiving dinner and by early evening we sat down to a fabulous meal.  It’s not so easy to find turkey in Turkey, so instead we made chicken.  Kelly imported cranberry sauce and pumpkin puree from home, which helped to really make it Thanksgiving. We improvised and made pumpkin burek as a substitute to pumpkin pie.  We celebrated the night with Ali, a friend we made in Istanbul.
Kelly flew back to the States early the next morning, and we were off to Cairo. 

If you look closely above you’ll see the talisman of the evil eye. The eye is said to ward off jealousy, envy and misfortune that other people may bestow on the owner. Although much of Mediterranean and Eastern Europe believe in the evil eye, it seems the Turks and the Greeks take it even further than the rest. Small cafe owners, clothing shops, butchers, and large corporate entities alike display the talisman just in case the the folklore is true.

The Mevlevi Brotherhood are a part of Sufi Islam, who believe that Divine love comes from within, and use whirling dance and song to achieve this state of perfect love. The ritual comprised of what you see above. For about 15-20 minutes the Whirling Dervishes spun around and around…

….Back home at the apartment, Kelly attempted her own whirling and twirling dervish…and almost became a hurling dervish.

Stop #4 on our day-long eating tour–gozlme–otherwise known as a Turkish quesadilla…

Stop #?? Turkish pastry shop. Dessert is a universal language.

Somewhere between Stop #4 and Stop ??. Smyrna bar. We had some drinks and texted Danielle via Blackberry while old-school Cuban music played in the background. Note from Kelly: Christine and Mike are such hi-tech tourists.

50 YTL for one bag of veggies? I think we got fleeced! Check out the smiles on the vendors’ faces–they seem to agree…

Ask and you shall receive. We were searching for nutmeg and some rosemary when this adorable spice shop appeared. This nice gentleman sold us one nut and then opened a drawer to reveal his secret stash of rosemary. Thanksgiving here we come…

Kelly was able to fly out and join us for our last week in Istanbul. She’s also volunteered to be our guest writer. Here’s her first foray into blogging…

Christine has been dying to get scrubbed and buffed for weeks now, but wasn’t so keen on visiting the hamam for a naked group bathing experience without a buddy. Can you blame her? Since most hamams have separate bathing areas for men and women, that ruled out Mike as partner in crime. So, from the moment I booked my ticket to Istanbul, she started plotting our visit to the 300 year-old Cagaloglu Hamam. I was thinking we might spend a few days exploring the city and building up some grime before making our way to the baths, but Christine had other plans…

Undeterred by a blinding rainstorm, Christine navigated us through a series of narrow alleys of Sultanahmet where Cagaloglu is located. We got there around 5pm thinking we would check out the facilities, and if they looked clean, that we would take the proverbial plunge. What happened next can only be described as chaotic induction into this unique Turkish custom. Without warning, we found ourselves swept along with a group of Eastern European tourists who were frantically trying to buy their tickets. Somehow, in that frenzy, the plan to take a tour first and then decide went out the door along with 40 Euro. In exchange, we found ourselves holding a pair of tickets for the “Luxe Package” and giggling with nervous laughter as waited to enter the emporium to get our scrubbing mits and contemplate souvenir soap and towel sets.

Fast forward 10 minutes. We make our way down the hallway, past the men’s bathing section, to the women’s changing area–a large room with an empty fountain in the middle, and private changing rooms along all sides. A woman hands each of us a key to a cabin along with a small towel. From there we are led through a series of doors into the main bath–a cavernous, marble-lined dome with a large marble dias in the middle, and small marble wash basins spaced periodically along the perimeter. Naked women sit near the basins dousing themselves with water and waiting to be called to the center platform where they will be scrubbed from head to toe by one of the attendants. It feels like we’ve stepped back 2000 years in time. Christine and I make our way toward a basin in the back corner of the room and gingerly sit down on the marble floor. What do you say to your best friend when the two of your are suddenly surrounded by naked chicks, and all that separates you from them is a flimsy towel??? Even more importantly, where do you cast your gaze? Before we can contemplate an answer to that question one of the attendants gives us a disapproving look and tells us to take off our towels and hang them on the hook near the basin.

Without a towel, our only method of staying warm was to start dousing ourselves with hot water which we did until suddenly one of the attendants called me over to the center platform. It was time to lose some skin. After minutes of scrubbing, soaping, and shampooing, punctuated by rounds of rinsing, I emerged fresh as a newborn baby.

Turkish delight is a sweet treat that is made from sugar and starch.  It’s mixed with fruit flavors and/or nuts such as pistachios, walnuts, or almonds, then dusted with powdered sugar or coconut.Mike likes Turkish delight, but it’s not good.  It’s super chewy and tastes like flavored marshmallows.

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This kind of looks like food you might have fed your gerbil when you were 8, but it’s instant granulated apple tea with sugar, and it’s delicious. Just add water. It tastes just like warm apple cider. Apple tea is available everywhere, but I’ve read that only tourists drink it.  The Turks prefer to drink tea from the Black Sea region.

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A quick visit to the Blue Mosque, now it’s raining and we’re off to the hamam to wait it out.

It wasn’t part of our original plan, but Mike and I decided to stay put for two weeks in Istanbul. We rented an apartment right off the main drag, which is kind of like being off Houston in Soho, or Shibuya in Tokyo, Stroget in Copenhagen, or 3rd street in Santa Monica. Which is to say, there are tons of people walking on Istiklal Caddesi, the main street and innumerable bars/restaurants/cafes/shops surround us. The last census stated 11million people reside here, but it is estimated up to 18million people maybe in Istanbul at one time (this includes unregistered foreigners and tourists).

[photo: view from our 4th floor apartment]
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Here’s a photo of a rally on Istiklal Caddesi. Turkey has very strict speech laws protecting Turkish identity and/or its institution. Any insults or even negative jokes about Turkey can result in up to 3 years in prison. With the desire to join the EU, the Turkish government is voting on abolishing/ amending the law to allow free speech.

This is a photo from Faruk’s garden in Goreme. It’s the end of the tomato season, so the plants look like they are barely hanging on. But according to Faruk, at the beginning of the planting season, the seeds are planted between rows of grapevines. Once they are seedlings, they are re-planted in a garden, and watered, once. The land in Cappadocia is extremely dry, and rain does not come often, but somehow these tomato plants continue to grow. And they are very sweet, juicy and tasty.

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This tomato looks like it had a face lift. You know when you see someone who’s had cosmetic surgery, and you have to look twice because something looks so right, it’s wrong?? This is a greenhouse tomato purchased in Istanbul. And like you might expect, has no real substance.

According to John, our Turkish friend, organic and greenhouse produce costs the same. It’s just a matter of if you can find the organic.