Update

I know, I know, I haven't posted in a while. But hey, I've been busy!

I am doing great and still loving being in Turkey. For all of you who contacted me concerned about my safety after the earthquake, thank you. I am fine! Istanbul is about 800 miles away from where the earthquake hit near Van, so I didn't even feel anything.

The earthquake was a measured at 7.2-magnitude and so far 535 people have died and 2,300 people were injured. Rescue crews are still searching for survivors. Yesterday, they found an 18-year old boy 100 hours after the earthquake. Check it out: http://www.cnn.com/2011/10/27/world/europe/turkey-quake/index.html?hpt=wo_c1.

Although I am in Turkey, I haven't felt like the country is recovering from a natural disaster. Apart from what I've been reading on CNN, The New York Times, and Hürriyet Daily News, I haven't heard much about the earthquake here. Even in class professors haven't mentioned it. It reminds me of what my brother Miles said about being in Japan during the earthquake. He too was in a town far away from where the earthquake hit. The people of Istanbul are going about their everyday lives, seemingly unaffected.

However, what has been affecting the people of Istanbul is the Kurdistan Worker's Party, or PKK, attack on Turkish soldiers on October 19th. The outlawed PKK killed 24 soldiers in eight simultaneous attacks in the Kazan Valley in the border district of Çukurca. The PKK is a Kurdish organization which has been fighting an armed struggle against Turkey since 1984 for an autonomous Kurdistan and greater rights for the Kurds in Turkey. The PKK is recognized as a terrorist organization by the US and EU. The issue of Kurdish nationalism in Turkey is especially important right now in light of Turkey's public support for an independent Palestine. 

On October 19th and in the days that followed, there were rallies and protests all over the streets of Istanbul. I was in Taksim Square on October 19th to see a jazz concert, and there was a large group of Turkish people marching down Istiklal Avenue waving Turkish flags and chanting words that I could not understand, but could only guess were nationalist sentiments. Later that night, my friends and I saw hundreds of yellow taxis driving together through the streets honking and also waving Turkish flags.

The Turkish people and government responded to the PKK attacks with anger and a thirst for revenge. Turkish Prime Minister Erdoğan said, "This nation will never forget those who have not denounced such brutal terror acts." Turkey has since launched a counterattack of 22 battalions and 10,000 soldiers on the PKK in Kazan Valley. Four days after the attack, officials claimed that 35 terrorists were killed. As a result of the counterattack and border operations, the PKK has evacuated the villages and retreated.

With all that said, Turkey's media is censored and it is difficult to discern the truth. Some have said the PKK killed much more Turkish soldiers than government officials have reported. I am not sure what to believe. All I know is that I hope the Turkish government isn't reading my blog...

Continuation of Ephesus Post: Selçuk and Around

After spending the morning in Ephesus, Ari, Chance, and I headed back to Selçuk where we visited the Ephesus Musem, the Isa Bei Camii, and the Basilica of Saint John.

The Ephesus Museum houses artifacts from the ancient city.

Statues

 Coins (I know, pretty self-explanatory)

Artemis

Me and My Best Friend, Emperor Domitian

The Isa Bei Camii was built in 1375 by the Emir of Aydin in a post-Seljuk and pre-Ottoman transitional style (yes I copied that from Lonely Planet).

Isa Bei Camii

Saint John is said to have come to Ephesus between 37 and 48 AD with the Virgin Mary and then again towards the end of his life in 95 AD. His tomb with his remains is believed to be in Ephesus, so in the 6th century Emperor Justinian built an awesome ("awesome" in its literal meaning) church on top of it. 

Basilica of St. John

Being Cool

Being Artsy with Ari

Saint John's Tomb

Kol Nidre

At 18:37 yesterday evening in Istanbul, Yom Kippur began. Yom Kippur is the Jewish Day of Atonement.

I decided not to go to Synagogue for Kol Nidre because I thought I would be able to concentrate on praying more by staying home and watching a previously recorded service online. I chose to watch Rabbi Naomi Levy and the Nashuva community in L.A. celebrate Yom Kippur in 2009. This was the most recent version I could find on the Jewish TV Network. Here is the link if you would like to check it out: http://jewishtvnetwork.com/highHolidays/.

I liked the Neshuva service for the most part. Rabbi Naomi (great name) gave an funny, passionate, and original sermon, and the music compositions were creative and entertaining. But it is always hard to attend or watch a service of a community that you are not familiar with. I grew up going to services at Temple Emanu-El in Honolulu, Hawaii and at URJ Camp Newman-Swig in Santa Rosa, California. Both communities are reformed Jewish communities that incorporate musical instruments into their services and read aloud English translations to and along with Hebrew chants and prayers. I chose to watch this particular service because it seemed the most similar to the type of service I am used to. While I was right in that regard, it was still hard to watch because I am not part of the Neshuva community.

I am sure Rabbi Naomi would argue that I am part of the Jewish community and therefore her community, and although that makes logical sense, that was not how I felt when I started watching the service. It is not that I felt uninvited or unwelcome. On the contrary, Neshuva and many other Jewish communities across the United States welcome thousands of Jews to watch services from around the world on the Jewish TV Network. In 2009, 220,000 people watched the Neshuva service live on the internet. I can't speak for them of course, but personally in the beginning I felt like I did not belong. Rabbi Naomi led prayers in tunes that I had never heard before and in an order I was taught was incorrect. For me this highlighted the fact that Judaism, like many other religions, has so many variations that it is difficult to define a Jewish identity. There are distinct religious variations, but also variations in ethnicity, geography, economics, culture, and politics. Indeed, there are Orthodox Jews in Israel that would deny my Judaism because it is so different from theirs. I don't blame them. The way in which I celebrate my religion is so reformed and so far from what the Torah describes as Jewish ritual and tradition. However, no one follows the Torah exactly. And the Torah contradicts itself all the time, which makes it impossible to follow exactly anyway. So the question becomes is someone who follows the Torah closely more Jewish than someone who follows the Torah loosely? Who is considered Jewish?

Are these questions even helpful? I am not sure if they are because while I consider myself Jewish and the Neshuva community considers itself Jewish, in the beginning I still felt like I did not belong. Perhaps you picked up on my past tense, as I have been referring to "when I started watching the service" and "in the beginning of the service." It is true that at first I felt like I did not belong in the Neshuva community, which made me question if I belong in the Jewish community. And then I heard Ki Anu Amecha and other prayers that I could not help but sing along to. During Ashamnu I stood up and hit my fist against my chest and heart, reminding myself of all the sins I have committed and asking God for forgiveness. In moments like these towards the end of the service, I felt I was a part of the Neshuva community and the Jewish community as a whole. Instead of focusing on what separates Jews, I focused on what brings them together.

For me, it was traditional prayers that are the same for all Jews that brought the Jewish community together for Yom Kippur. But what will it be tomorrow?

When I was preparing for my Bat Mitzvah in 2003, my mother gave me a list of quotes about Judaism and the Torah to study. One of them was from the story in the Talmud (Shabbos 31 A): A gentile approached Rabbi Shammai and asked the Rabbi to teach him the Torah while he stands on one foot. Rabbi Shammai thought that the man was not serious and chased him away. The gentile then approached Hillel with the same question but was met with a very different reaction - Hillel agreed. He said, "This is our Holy Torah: 'What is hateful to you, do not do unto others... That's the meaning of the whole Torah. All the rest is only an explanation of that. Go, go, my son. Go and study it.'"

The whole Torah, the ideology of Judaism, and the base of the Jewish religion rests on the golden rule for all of humanity: Treat others the way you want to be treated; Treat your neighbor as yourself.

The Torah is what brings Jews together, the Torah is the golden rule, and the golden rule is what brings humanity together. The Jewish community is just one community in the community of communities that we all belong to.

I know these statements make me sound dramatic, a little pretentious, and also kinda dumb. All I really said is that we are all part of this world and we should be nice to each other. But it was a good feeling for me to go from watching a service of a community that I did not feel I belonged to, and then remembering all the things I just wrote about, to finally feeling like I belonged to the Jewish community and consequently the world community. I hope that didn't sound like I'm saying the Jewish community is the world community. I just meant the teachings of the Jews are the same as the teachings for humanity. I also forgot to mention that I spent a full 24 hours alone in my apartment yesterday fasting and doing a whole lot of nothing. I need to wrap this post up before I ramble even more... Sorry if reading this was a waste of your time. I'm sorry for anything I may have done to you in the past. I'm sorry I have not had the courage to apologize. And I'm sorry if I have not realized that I need to apologize.

My (Old) Apartment

This should have been one of my very first posts. But oh well, here it is now.

Before you scroll down and look at the beautiful pictures of where I am currently living, I just want to say that yes I know I am very spoiled and yes I am very happy about it and no I don't care that I am spoiled because I am happy :). 

Entrance to the Kitchen and Living Room

Kitchen (which has every useful appliance... except a microwave)

Alcohol

Seating Area

Bookshelf and other Pretty Things

Study Area

Desk

Outside

The Building

Tree House and Grass (that grew in one week, no joke)

Patio

So now that you have all gawked at and been terribly jealous of (and perhaps cried about?) the pictures of my apartment, let me explain why I am living here and why the title of this post says "old" in parentheses. 

My two other roommates, Ari and Shumita, and I rented this apartment for one month until we figured out other living arrangements. The apartment belongs to the Köprülü family, who are family friends of Ari's parents, and they did us a favor and let us stay here temporarily for just a fraction of the normal rent. 

The Köprülü family was a noble family in the Ottoman Empire and provided six Grand Viziers as well as a number of high-ranking officers to the state. Nina Köprülü and her husband Murat live in New York City but spend their summers on the Bosphorus in a beautiful house as well as in this apartment. 

I am so thankful that I had the opportunity to live in this quaint apartment in Bebek. The reason why the title of this post says "old" is because we are moving out of this apartment on Monday morning. Shumita found a sublet in Ortakoy, and Ari and I decided to stay in Bebek and move into another one of Ari's family friends' apartments. I have not seen it yet but I have heard it has a view of the Bosphorus... check back soon to see pictures of my "new" apartment. 

L'shanah Tovah Tikatev V'taihatem(i)

Happy New Year! For all you non-Jews out there (there must be one or maybe two of you out of all my family and friends...), today is Rosh Hashanah, or the Jewish New Year, and the title of my post means "May you be inscribed and sealed for a good year."

I never thought I would be celebrating this holiday in Turkey, which reminds me that every year brings new experiences and that you never know where you will be in a year. Last year I celebrated Rosh Hashanah at Penn Hillel and ate apples and honey, which is a traditional holiday food symbolizing a sweet new year, with my sorority sisters. The thought of where I would be in a year never crossed my mind, and if you asked me where I would be I would have most likely said studying abroad in Prague.

This year I attended prayer services at Neve Șalom Synagogue in Istanbul. While I usually go to services with a large group of friends, this year I went alone. And while I usually attend Reformed Jewish services, this year I attended Orthodox Jewish services. This year has already brought very different and new experiences for me, and for that I am grateful.

Neve Șalom Synagogue is a beautiful synagogue built in 1951 in Istanbul near Galata Tower in the Beyoğlu District. It has a large Sephardic community, and is open to reservations for visits and services. I contacted the Synagogue last week to make a reservation to attend prayer services last night. I had to send a copy of my passport as well as bring my passport to the Synagogue last night in order to pass through security. Security is strict and there are even gas masks under every seat because in the past Neve Șalom has suffered three terrorist attacks. The last one was in 2003 when the Synagogue was hit by a car bomb. The Great Eastern Islamic Raiders' Front, a local Turkish militant group, claimed responsibility for the attack.

While I was a bit nervous when I was waiting outside of the Synagogue after ringing the doorbell to enter, once I was inside I felt very safe. The man who greeted me spoke perfect English and commented that he did not think there were Jews in Hawaii. I responded by saying that I did not think there were Jews in Turkey. He then took me through security where I went through a metal detector and my bag was searched, and then through two doors where the second door did not open until the first door was closed. We then entered the lobby, which led to the main floor where the men sat and the upper balcony where the women sat. Since I am a member of a Reformed congregation, the separation between men and women was new for me. However, I expected as much since I was going to an Orthodox synagogue. I thanked the man who greeted me and then took a Siddur (Jewish prayer book) and headed upstairs.

When services began at sundown there were only a few women and about a dozen men praying. But as time went on more people showed up. None of the rabbis spoke English, and while they led the traditional prayers, it was hard to keep up with their fast pace. Most of the time I was trying to find where we were in the prayer book. But when I finally found where we were, I felt accomplished and followed along as quickly as I could, whispering the Hebrew words a mile a minute. Services finished after about an hour and a half. I had been helping an American woman find her place throughout the service, so I chatted with her and her husband on the way out. They were from New York City and were visiting Istanbul for the weekend and decided to go to services while they were here. We were handed our passports at the exit, and I watched as they disappeared into the night.

After services I felt a mix of nostalgia and loneliness. I was starting the new year alone in a foreign country where not only are there hardly any Jews, but where Judaism represents Israel's politics against an independent Palestine. The day after I arrived in Istanbul I saw a huge poster hanging from a building on the main highway that said, "Israel you will be sorry." I have never felt uncomfortable to practice my religion in my life, but in Turkey I have hid the fact that I am Jewish from my peers and have not once worn my Star of David necklace.

As I walked down the crowded street of İstiklal Avenue with these depressing thoughts in my head, a new thought came to me as I realized I was not actually sad, but proud of myself for going to synagogue on Rosh Hashanah and practicing my religion despite where I was.

Happy New Year everyone.

Ephesus: The Best Preserved Classical City in the Eastern Mediterranean

I just wanted to start off by saying that I am alive and well (for those of you who have e-mailed me asking if I am okay since I have not posted in a while). I have so much I need to update, but I will skip to the more exciting stuff for now. Get ready, this post is going to be a long one (like a really long one)!

Last week Tuesday I left for a 4-day trip to Selçuk, Ephesus, and Çeşme. Ari, our friend Chance, and I decided on Monday night around 10 PM to leave for İzmir the next morning. We then booked our plane tickets, hostels, and made our travel plans, all within 1 hour. For such a quickly organized trip, everything went smoothly and according to plan.

We arrived safely at the airport in İzmir on Tuesday afternoon. I say "safely" because we flew on Pegasus Airlines, which is a cheap Turkish Airlines that made an emergency landing in 2010 due to a malfunction in the nose gear. Ari even made a joke about how we could stand on the plane, and me and Chance actually believed her. We happily exited the plane after sitting for about an hour, then took a 1 hour train to the small town of Selçuk, which is a 5 minute drive to Ephesus.

We stayed right outside of the town center at a hostel called Atilla's Getaway. Although the rooms were tiny, the bathroom was outside, and the Aussie owner was kind of an asshole, it had a bar, pool table, and swimming pool (which models nicely in photographs, as you will see below).

Atilla's Getaway

After taking a quick dip in the freezing pool, we headed back into town and had dinner near the Roman aqueduct.

Chow Time

(There I am eating chicken... in Turkey)

Roman Aqueduct in Selçuk

We explored the town for a bit (which took about 5 minutes because that's how small it is), and then decided to drink Efes (Turkish beer that sort of tastes like a combination between Bud Light and Natty Light - so in my opinion, not that tasty) at Destina Cafe & Bar, which we realized the next day is right next to the last remaining column of the Temple of Artemis, which is one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Chance also taught me and Ari how to play Backgammon, which is widely played throughout Turkey, especially by old men sitting at tea houses with nothing to do and nowhere to go. 

Chance and Ari at Destina Cafe & Bar

(You can see the column of the Temple of Artemis over Chance's left shoulder)

Last Remaining Column of the Temple of Artemis

(Taken the next day, as evidenced by the lighting, after we realized we were next to it the previous night)

We went to bed early that night so that we could get an early start Wednesday to see Ephesus, which, as I've already mentioned, is the best preserved classical city in the eastern Mediterranean or according to some, in all of Europe. 

Ephesus

Me and Chance in front of the Library of Celsus

Episteme (Knowledge)

Temple of Hadrian

Relief of a Man on a Horse Chasing a Boar

(Represents the mythic founding of Ephesus)

Flower Power (lolz)

The Odeon

I could be cliche and say that the pictures above do not do Ephesus justice, but they actually do because they don't capture the thick dust that coated the ruins and coated our bodies... Anyway, Ephesus was an incredible site to see, and was quite overwhelming. I kept touching all the stone and marble, trying to imagine how many tourists, excavators, and ancient peoples must have touched the same rock. It is unbelievable that Ephesus was built without any of the modern technology we have today. Well, actually it's not that unbelievable because it doesn't have any characteristics of modern technology... but I think you know what I mean. The intricate details in the stone made me wonder who took the time to carve the stone and what it was worth to them. 

I'll finish this post later.

The Asian Side

A few days ago Ari and I woke up excited for a relaxing day at Prince's Islands (chain of islands off of the main land of Istanbul). We packed our bathing suits and towels, and headed for the ferry terminal. I led the way through a pack of tourists and felt "local" as I bypassed the line to buy tickets and used my transportation card at the turnstile. Ari followed me, surely impressed by my ease in navigating us around. However, after the boat took off ten minutes early, we realized we were on the wrong boat. The boat was heading towards the Asian side of Istanbul...

Instead of spending the day on the beach sun bathing, we walked around the Asian side. Most of the time we were lost since we didn't bring a map with us and couldn't find a map anywhere. I hardly took any pictures for this very reason. I was busy trying to figure out where we were going and did not pay much attention to where we were.

We visited a number of mosques and markets.

The mosques on the Asian side looked like the mosques on the European side, except there were no tourists visiting them and people were praying in them.

Mosque on the Asian side

The markets on the Asian side were similar to the markets on the European side, but they were less touristy, cheaper, and felt more authentic (probably because tourists don't usually go to the Asian side and prices aren't inflated in places where there are no tourists (duh)). 

There were a number of different fruit and vegetable markets, as well as a few antique markets.

The antique markets were really fun to shop at. There were really fancy antique stores with lots of furniture and decorations like chairs, gold clocks, and chandelliers, as well as really cheap antique stores with a whole lot of junk like old lunch boxes, lighters, and prescription glasses.

Two "Fancy" Antique Stores

After we shopped a bit, we had lunch and went home. Although we did not expect to go to the Asian side, it was really interesting and quite nice to see a part of Turkey that most tourists don't see and to experience a Turkey that is a bit less influenced by Europe. 

There were many things about the Asian side that felt different from the European side for me. Many more women wore headscarves and many more people prayed. The streets were wider and there was less congestion of people buying things from other people and people selling things to other people. The Asian side also seemed poorer. My guidebook was sure to tell me that this is not true, but from what I could tell, while there are a number of very wealthy people who have summer homes on the Bosphorus, the vast majority of people are not rich and will probably never be rich. 

The feeling I got on the Asian side was a totally different feel than I have being on the European side. For me, Istanbul indeed seems split socioeconomically and particularly religiously between East and West.