The Museum of Underwater Archeology (Sualti Arkeolji Muzesi)

Here is an explanation of how globalization began....it is certainly not a new concept.....:-)

A recreation of the ancient pottery kilns for firing the amphorae

For my pottery-making friends, Brenda, Geoff and Barbara, here is a depiction of the firing of the ancient amphorae.

This huge cactus was covered with buds about to bloom! Wish I could see them!

A typical Muslim grave marker; I saw a whole cemetery full of these on the way to Akyarlar.

I read this on a mulberry tree....it made me wonder whether Shakespeare might have plagiarized the story of Romeo and Juliet!

This morning after breakfast, I headed for Bodrum Castle to visit the Museum of Underwater Archeology, the brilliant idea of  an American professor (named Bass) from the University of Pennsylvania who had participated in some archeological digs in Turkey while still a graduate student in the 1960’s.  Together with his Turkish counterparts, they conceived this fascinating museum in the heart of the medieval castle which was built as a stronghold by the Knights of St. John after they were chased from Rhodes and before they ended their days on the island of Malta. 

On my way to the castle, I stopped to watch Turkish children during their recess playing ball in the school courtyard.  The school is right near the sea, and all the tourist hubbub.  I wonder what it must be like to grow up in such a place which resembles a sort of paradise for both foreign and Turkish tourists.  Many of the tourists here now are Turks, though today I also heard French, German, Dutch, Russian and Bulgarian.

I spent two and a half hours exploring the excellent exhibits of artifacts found under the sea along the Turkish coast, including an ancient Egyptian cargo from the 14^th century B.C. with bronze-age tools, scarabs and a tiny golden deity figure believed to be the protector of the ship.  There was also an Anatolian ship from the 5^th century B.C. that is referred to as the glasswreck, as it was bearing a huge amount of glassware, as well as thousands of shards of broken glass.  This was an early form of recycling, as the shards were collected by peddlars and resold to be melted down and formed into new glass objects.  The museum has one of the four largest collections of ancient glass in the world.

Another of the museum’s impressive collections is that of huge clay amphorae used to store and transport oil, wine and other foods.  These vessels are tall, with two handles, and a cone-shaped, cylindrical body.  The museum has literally hundreds of them that were found in the various shipwrecks on display.  Some of the ships themselves are partly reconstructed, using the pieces of hull and plank that were found.  Since these shipwrecks are thousands of years old, not much remains of the ships themselves, but amazingly as much as 20% was found in some cases if the hull was resting in sand.  

Other treasures I viewed included coins from numerous ancient civilizations, jewelry, an ancient and primitive chess set, grooming tools including a delousing comb, cooking pots and utensils, swords,  hatchets, anchors….The history of anchors was quite interesting.  Originally, they were just huge stones, but then wooden anchors were developed.  To make them heavier, deep grooves were carved into the base of the anchor, then liquid metal was poured in.  These eventually evolved into the heavy iron anchors we normally think of.

The castle has a number of towers, each dedicated to a different language group of the Knights….hence the English, German, French, and Italian.  Inside the Snake Tower which was used as a hospital, there was a display devoted to objects related to health, life and death, including tiny carved figures displaying different maladies, some primitive surgical instruments (ouch!), and a carved figure of Priapus, son of Aphrodite and Dionysus.  If you have never seen a depiction of Priapus, here is what Wikipedia has to say about him J:

In Greek mythology, Priapus or Priapos (Ancient Greek: Πρίαπος), was a minor rustic fertility god, protector of livestock, fruit plants, gardens and male genitalia. Priapus is marked by his absurdly oversized, permanent erection, which gave rise to the medical term priapism. He became a popular figure in Roman erotic art and Latin literature, and is the subject of the often humorously obscene collection of verse called the Priapeia.

Thus ended my tour of the underwater treasures museum and Bodrum castle.  I enjoyed a break from the sun in the pleasant shaded tea garden of the museum where I drank Ayran (a salty liquid yogurt drink), and ate various dried fruits stuffed with hazelnuts, almonds and pistachios.  I  reserved my place on the bus to Ephesus tomorrow morning.  I have to meet the driver in front of the new mosque (the one with the grocery store in the basement level!) tomorrow morning at 6:45 am!

Exploring Bodrum center

I had thought of going to nearby Gumbet to try out the beaches there, but I ended up spending the whole day right here in Bodrum which I don’t regret.  I tried out my Turkish this morning after Dogan’s lesson in the grocery store last night…I said “Gunaydin” this morning to the father of the young couple who runs the hotel.  He and his wife help out, serving the breakfast and cleaning up afterward. At any rate, he smiled and recognized what I wanted to say, correcting me on the stress, which I misplaced on the last syllable when it belongs on the “ay.”  Tomorrow morning I will get it right!

I stopped on my way to the main shopping street to buy a fresh-squeezed orange juice, and got into a conversation with the man pressing the oranges.  Everyone asks, “Where are you from?” which leads to questions about what I do there, whether this is my first visit to Turkey, etc.  Many people seem to want to practice English.  The orange juice seller told me that there are many English-speaking foreigners who have retired to the Bodrum peninsula.  He didn’t know the word for “retired” but did what I always tell my students to do…he explained it using simpler words he already knew, and I understood his meaning perfectly. 

Later in the afternoon, I entered a shop to look at (and buy…J) some beautiful ikat and embroidered pillow covers from Uzbekistan.  The shopkeeper started chatting…he knows Ann Arbor, Michigan since he studied at the University of Michigan and told me that he loves the U.S. and considers it his second home.  His left arm was badly scraped up, and several fingers were bandaged the result  of  a scooter accident  last week.  Moments later, an elderly man came in to whom I was then introduced….he is from Battle Creek, Michigan! (Battle Creek is the home of Kellogg’s corn flakes, and just 25 minutes from my hometown of Kalamazoo.) He introduced himself as Warren, age 85, who has lived in Turkey for more than 50 years!  He is a medical doctor, and was there to bring some medicine and advice to our aforementioned injured shopkeeper.  After so many years in Turkey, Warren sounded as American as ever, though he chatted in fluent Turkish as he drank a tea to my coffee. 

I was also thrilled to meet a lovely young woman sculptor with a little table set up down by the harbor, displaying some fantastic little sculptures she had carved in serpentine and alabaster.  Her work was so beautiful that I was immediately enchanted.  Elif Yildirim is a third generation sculptor who learned her art from her father, who in turn was trained by his father, Elif’s grandfather.  I was drawn to a beautiful carving in alabaster of a woman lying down with legs folded and arms extended, her long hair swirling in front of her face, with the white alabaster showing a light brown patch just where Elif carved her hair.  The carving is masterful, exquisite!  It is a little gem!  The second sculpture I chose is of Poseidon, a small head in a primitive style, carved in grey serpentine, with a fish protruding from the back of his head….I have trouble to describe it, and would photograph it to share here, but Elif wrapped and taped both pieces for me to transport. She pulled out a metal file and swiftly inscribed the name ‘Poseidon’ on the back of the head’s base. Elif then showed me a battered copy of a Turkish magazine called Focus dated 2004 which featured a 4-5 page article with many photos of her family’s work, and included  photos of her, her father and grandfather all at work in their outdoor studios. 

I ended the day on the roof of my hotel which has a fantastic view of the harbor, Bodrum castle, and a panorama of the whole town.  I swam alone in the rooftop pool, then relaxed on a lounge.  I had the whole place to myself!  That is one of the pleasures of waiting to take my summer vacation in late September…..

Becoming a Beach Bum in Bodrum.....

Tonight, the famous Halikarnas Disco is silent…..what a relief!  It is located just 25 meters from the entrance to the small family-run hotel where I am staying.  The disco was established in 1979, at the height of “disco fever.” (Remember John Travolta in “Saturday Night Fever”?  Think of the Bee Gees, Donna Summer, and Regine’s in NYC…)  Halikarnas boasts itself to be the largest disco in Europe, with a capacity of 4,000, mostly outdoors.  Friday and Saturday night, the disco was in full swing, with a huge illuminated orb seen all along the beachfront of Bodrum, and a green laser beam cutting through the sky.

Sunday is not a holy day in Muslim Turkey….Friday is the holiest day of the week, but in secular Turkey, shops are open every day, and until very late hours.  Last night, I was strolling back to the hotel after midnight, and saw many shops still open for tourists…shoe-shopping at 1:00 am?  If the desire strikes you….

Interestingly, right beneath the tower of the central mosque here in Bodrum is a rather large shop selling all manner of items.  It is a curious juxtaposition of religion and commercialism, but quite a practical use of space.  It appears to me that Turks are very hard-working.  Indeed, in the private sector, workers have only two weeks of vacation per year, similar to their American counterparts.

Yesterday, I traveled by dolmus (minibus) to Karancir Bay (direction Akyarlar) where I spent the day relaxing under a beach umbrella on a chaise longue.  The Turks have a nice system whereby comfortable lounge beds with large cushions or beanbags are provided free of charge, as long as you order drinks and perhaps have lunch at the local restaurant.  The waiters come by periodically to bring you whatever your heart desires, and serve you with a smile!  For lunch, I tried two delicious salads – one called deniz borulce (green beans from the sea….delicious! – and the second a mixture of  roasted aubergines and peppers in a yogurt sauce.  I also had a chicken kebab and the local beer, Efes. After such a full lunch, I had to flop on my lounge bed again for an hour to digest before going for a wonderful swim in the Aegean Sea.  The weather here is a delicious 27-30 degrees during the day….like a lovely summer day with dry heat, no humidity. 

Today, after a traditional Turkish breakfast at my hotel, (very much like a Bulgarian breakfast  with cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, white cheese (feta), yellow cheese (kashkaval), bread, salami, watermelon, small cakes, boiled eggs), I again headed for the central bus station to catch a dolmus to Torba.  To reach the bus station, I walk along the edge of the sea on Cumhuriyet  Caddesi past a lovely Turkish tea garden under a grove of trees, past numerous seafront restaurants and shops, then turn towards the mosque, left on Ataturk Caddesi, then right on Cevat Sakir Caddesi.  It is important to note that “c” in Turkish is pronounced “g” /tdz/ as in “generous.” 

Torba is only 8 kilometers away, and was an even more pleasant spot to spend the afternoon lounging by the sea.  I chose a wooden dock with mattresses to lie on, and large umbrellas for shade.  The staff brought me a fresh-squeezed orange juice, and later a coffee frappe, all with a price of course!  The sun was hotter today, but there was a pleasant breeze, and I took a long swim in the sea, jumping off the dock. The restaurant lulls us with a pleasant mix of American jazz, as well as French, Greek, Italian, Spanish and a few Turkish standards. There was an eclectic mix of people there, mostly Turkish, but one group of four was very curious – an American man in his early 40’s perhaps, with another male, English-speaking but non-native.  The two men were sunbathing, but periodically went to speak with two women, much older, who were dressed chastely as Moslems with long black garments, and head coverings.  The four of them had lunch together, then took off in a rented car.  I wish I had gotten their story…..

Back in Bodrum this evening, I went to the local grocery store to buy a few items to have in my room for supper.  I decided to purchase some yogurt, and went hunting for a spoon.  I enlisted the help of a young man working in the store, and had to mime eating with a spoon, as he initially thought I was looking for a cup. This led to his asking me for the English words for the plastic forks and knives which we also found.  I offered to write the words down for him, after I tried spelling them out loud for him (‘knife’ being such an illogically-spelled  word!)  He seemed really pleased with the free English lesson, so we continued to speak.  I told him that I am a teacher, and he appreciated my patience as he struggled to answer questions I asked him about his studies. He asked if I spoke Turkish, and I had to admit I didn’t know the most basic expressions other than “Merhaba.”  Dogan, as he is named, then helped me learn a few basic expressions such as “tesekkurler” (thank you) and “rica ederim” (you are welcome).  We had a nice exchange….

I hope to visit Bodrum a bit tomorrow, going to the Castle  to see the arecheological museum of underwater treasures which is highly recommended.  I might also check out the beach at nearby Gumbet.  On Tuesday, I want to make an excursion to Pammukkale, and Wednesday to Ephesus. More details on this later in the week!     

I concluded too soon that the great Halikarnas Disco would be silent tonight!  Now they are pumping it out….soon I will hear the deejay shout: “Are you ready to party?!”

Flying to Bodrum via Istanbul

I am flying high above a meandering river surrounded by lowlands, divided like a patchwork quilt into geometric plots which dovetail together neatly at the corners. The colors of these quilt patches range from a dusky lavender,  beige and moss green to a pearl grey, here and there interrupted by neat rows of steely pinheads which are actually the roofs of buildings lining the streets of small towns and cities.

The clouds below hang suspended over the landscape, looking as though a master set designer had ordered them so created and arranged to set the scene. Their shadows make numerous ink blotches on the earthly quilt beneath. 

The captain has just announced that we are flying at 11,000 meters, and also told us that it is raining lightly at our destination – Istanbul.  Never mind…the sun is shining up here at 11,000 meters, and I will not leave the airport, but instead sail on to the next port…..Bodrum.  Weather.com has promised me that in Bodrum there is 0% chance of precipitation for the next seven days, with temperatures hovering between 27-30 degrees.  Bonnie Raitt is singing about rain, metaphorically, through my headphones: “Cry like a rainstorm, howl like the wind…” but that doesn’t dampen my sunshine!

Wow!  I just glanced out the window again and the quilted earth has disappeared!  Now I see an infinite expanse of undulating white cotton clouds stretching across the horizon.  It looks like a giant mattress, so soft and inviting….I must be tired.  Really, it seems incredible that friends, family, cities, mountains, oceans, rivers are living, breathing, standing, rolling, flowing underneath that atmospheric blanket. 

Again…the view is changing.  The first mountains are appearing.  The surface of the earth resembles a crocodile’s skin in both texture and color. These are very low mountains blanketed in green – only the ridges protrude sharp-edged and brown in color.  The clouds have thinned here…independent-minded clouds that prefer to drift solo rather than mass together like the sheep-like clouds in the giant flock we just passed.

The crocodile must have slithered back into the mud, since now I see a stripy quilt below with a tremendously long serpent of a river wending its way through it. We are back over the mattress again, but this time the surface is tufted and quilted into a pattern of honey-combed cells….the view reminds me of Georgia O’Keefe’s fantastic painting of clouds seen from above, inspired by her first airplane ride. 

Distant journeys begin and end like this…with an aerial perspective – the so-called ‘big picture.’ It serves as a metaphor for the way in which we ought to approach any new destination, seeing the specific point on the globe we have targeted within the broader context of the geographic landscape, country, and region in which it is situated.   This view is a significant one when we consider that we animals are all shaped by the geography we inhabit.  It is a slow, evolutionary process, but the earth has shaped us and made us adapt to its contours and climatic conditions.  (There is frost on my window now!)

Now I see the sea beneath the clouds, and tiny “toy” boats are positioned here and there on its glass surface like the strategic positioning of the little plastic boats in the Battleship game.  I spot them when the clouds permit me a view all the way down to the sea. 

We are landing now in Istanbul, and the Bosphorus looms below…the city is just beneath us!  Breathtaking!

Happy New Year 2012 to all family and friends.....

Buon Natale! Auguri!

(written Sunday, December 25, 2011 in Amalfi, Italia)

Last evening, we watched glorious displays of fireworks over the dome of Amalfi’s cathedral, with startling explosions continuing well into the night. Earlier, Sophia, Vladi and I took a one-and-a-half –hour bus ride (SITA) from Amalfi to Sorrento, passing through Furore and the famous Positano. The views along the serpentine coastal drive are shockingly beautiful….jagged rock outcrops jutting abruptly into a shimmering Tyrrhenian Sea….sea and sky meeting to create one harmonious blue expanse.

Sorrento itself lacks the geographical drama of Amalfi and Positano, but has its own charm with narrow alleyways for streets in the oldest section. The best attraction for me at this Christmastime was seeing a variety of presepe, the fascinatingly detailed scenes of Jesus’ birth combined with folkloric elements of scenes from daily Italian life in past centuries: fishmongers hawking their wares, men gathered in their favorite local bar to drink and play cards, a woman dressed in lovely folk costume flirting with an admirer. It is a miniature world unto itself, lovingly created by artisans specialized in the designing of these artistic figures and all of their minute lifelike accessories. The city hall displayed antique figures from 18^th century Napoli artists, while along the coastal road, we glimpsed from the bus a fantastic presepe tucked into niches in the natural contours of the cliff. When we passed by in the dark on the way back to Amalfi, illumination produced a truly spectacular, magical effect.

One of the most interesting and amusing experiences of the day was observing our bus driver in action. First of all, clearly posted at the front of the bus for all to see was an official sign which read “Non parlare all’autista.” (Do not speak to the driver.) From the moment he boarded the bus, our driver chatted incessantly with one after the other of the local passengers who sat in the front seat to his right. Not only did he actively converse as he drove along the wildly curving road with a sheer drop to the sea below constantly menacing on our left, but he turned his head constantly to look at his interlocutors, joking, laughing, as if he knew the road so well he scarcely needed to look at it.

In addition, he stopped numerous times to hail friends and acquaintances standing in bar and shop entries, or driving vehicles headed in the opposite direction. He seems to be very well connected! At one point, a well-dressed woman in a chic teal skirt, black long-sleeved shirt with a black scarf artfully knotted at her neck, wearing patent-leather black wedge pumps, boarded and stood neatly posed in the front of the bus, again chatting with the driver. We stopped after a while to let her off, then waited while she entered the pesceria (fish shop), picked up two large, odoriferous bags of extremely fresh fish for Christmas eve supper, re-boarded the bus with the smelly cargo, and on we went.

Several other passengers boarded and descended at or near their doorsteps along the route, with special thanks and auguri to the driver. (Auguri is the Italian for best wishes.)

Dark descends by 5:00 pm at this time of year, so when we headed out today at 2:00 pm for a walk in the sunshine after last night’s rain, we knew that we had only three hours of daylight maximum. A town of 6,000 inhabitants, Amalfi is built into a steep rocky slope; thus, much of the town is accessible by climbing streets consisting of flights of steps, often quite steep. We followed a series of steep steps that skirted the northern end of the town to climb our way up to the ruins of a castle tower high above the sea. Even at that level, there were a number of houses tucked into the cliff-side, each with a balustrade and terrace looking out towards the sea. We reached a point above the castle ruins itself, and noted yet another interminable flight of steps heading up and up with no end in sight. My legs, especially my calves, are still sore from our first hiking excursion the day before yesterday (December 23) when we climbed uncountable numbers of steps to walk from our apartment via Atrani to Ravello.

The path led us through rural and rugged landscapes, often reminding me of hikes we made in Capri two years ago. We saw orange and lemon groves perched on steep slopes, covered in protective cloth to ward off frost. At one point, we glimpsed large pigs and sows far below, and passed numerous small vegetable patches cultivated on plots carved out of the ravine. If I hadn’t known that it was nearly Christmas, I might have thought it was autumn – there was a definite feeling of fall in the air…colored oak leaves, wood smoke curling from chimneys, acorns and olives strewn heavily underfoot.

Ravello itself is a charming mountain village which has enhanced its charm for tourism purposes. We didn’t have time to visit its Villa Rufulo where Richard Wagner once stayed and purportedly found inspiration for Klingsor’s garden in his Parsifal. We did, however, enter Ravello’s church where an organist was practicing familiar Christmas carols, most likely in preparation for the evening service. A church always feels more holy, more inspiring to me when its chapel reverberates with the swelling sound of an organ.

We hurried back down the cliff to reach Amalfi before darkness fell, and ran into an obstacle descending into Atrani. Workmen had abandoned a project to rebuild one of these mountain paths, leaving it partially blocked. We managed to climb through the barricade and make our way down without being forced to retrace our steps.

Looking out over the sea and coast from our balcony windows, I now understand why Monet painted those haystacks over and over…the fascination with light and its effects on an object or a scene….the view of these jagged cliffs dotted with cream, rose, and ochre-colored houses becomes a constantly-changing image throughout the day with the sea as its mirror and companion.

I find the beauty of this place so intensely stimulating that I want to absorb it through all my pores, all my senses….it makes my senses raw with stimulation. I feel that I could melt into a puddle of emotional response and be swept away by the waves of the sea!