“It’s 32 degrees Celsius, just to let you know.” said Zhi Wei in a groggy tone that masked the excitement that he had. “Oh god,” I muttered under my breath. It has been 2 years since I last been under such warmth – the blazing heat from home seems so foreign to me right now; and I guess that worked pretty much to my disadvantage in Istanbul. The view from the plane’s window was enough to start me perspiring – long barren air strip with metallic glass infrastructures casted against a bright yellow backdrop.
But our transition into Istanbul was smooth. The people were very friendly here – sometimes too friendly for our liking. The train operator literally pinched my cheeks, while muttering some Turkish words in a tone that could only spell one thing: CUTE. But on a large scale, it really does make me wonder how society has shaped me. Both Zhi Wei and I were raised in an environment where generous gestures from strangers were viewed with immense suspicion; hinging on the solemn premise that there is no possible way in which someone could be so nice without having any perverse motives. It’s sad really – where the chords of our souls are tuned to view the worst in people and the only banner we have to hide behind is that of prudence: better be safe than sorry. Sometimes it really makes me wonder how many kind souls I have missed out in my life just because I was too caught up in the fictitious pursuit of my self-defense.
But in Istanbul, though still with immense reservations, we try to fathom the fact that there are such things as kind gestures: some people just strike up random conversations because they are genuinely interested in where we come from and are determined to make us feel welcomed in their motherland; some vendors would literally walk up to us when they sensed we were struggling with map that contained the labyrinth of roads, and they helped us: with only a smile and handshake in return.
Sure there are bad apples, but I rather put my faith in people than to hide away in the shadows of humanity.
“I can help you if you want!” muttered a local as we were fiddling with the ticketing machine at the train station. “You heading to Sultanahmed?” she enquired. “We are at the wrong side of the station!” as she gestured us to follow her. Well, we literally crossed the tracks to the other side of the station – a definite first for the both of us! The public transportation here is amazing: clean, and properly air-conditioned: something which the London Tube can learn from.
The modern tram snaked through the city – a jarring contrast if you asked me: an injection of modernity amidst a city that goes back all the way to the Roman Empire. As we approached the city center, Istanbul began to reveal its majesty. There is a thick scent of history in the air – a city that is well conscious of its status in the eyes of the world. Amidst the organic growth of rather modest homes, a few mammoth-like architecture that are well designed to SHOCK AND AWE stood out.
The majestic Hagia Sofia.
On the first day [we decided to take it easy], we decided to visit the first: Hagia Sofia. Constructed initially as a church by the Roman Emperor Justinian circa 500 A.D ++, it has been converted into a mosque when it fell into the hands of the Ottoman Empire somewhere circa 1500 A.D ++. As a result, the architecture paints remnants of a seamless convergence between Mohammedan and Christian cultures – a tacit reminder to the world today on what heights we could scale if only we start learning from one another, rather than trying to tear each other apart.
The entrance to Hagia Sofia.
In its own right, Hagia Sofia – whether as a church or as a mosque, was the greatest of its kind. It’s of no wonder that the construction of this magnificent icon nearly bankrupted both civilizations. Upon entering the Nave – the crux of the place, both Zhi Wei and I were just speechless.
The Nave – the bomb of the place! =)
In the midst of all the huge domes, there chandeliers that hang from the ceiling like the lamp of light dangled from heaven. The air buzzed with conversations of excited tourists. There were kids running around; mothers propping themselves against the huge marble pillars that support the upper floor; and there were just locals who sit down without any clear purpose or plan….just soaking it in. The space was so huge that there was enough space for everyone, irrespective of one’s intentions.
On a more personal note, I have always wanted to visit Istanbul. It stretches way back to the years of my high school when most of my peers would dread even the sight of our history textbook, what more the chapters were devoted to the rise of the Islamic Empire. But I’ve always taken a liking for those chapters – my heart starts to flutter a little with excitement as I started imagining the grand buildings and technological prowess of that empire. After all, weren’t they the civilization that invented algebra, ruled over seas, and made massive improvements to almost all facets of our lives?This fascination followed me all the way till the University of Michigan where I had always wanted to pick up Arabic. Alas, somethings had to give for other greater things to pass. If it weren’t for my stint in the University of Oxford, I would have been in the American University of Cairo, Egypt studying Arabic.
And till now I couldn’t believe that I am in Istanbul – the heart of the Ottoman Empire.
Once upon a time, Islamic calligraphy can exists side by side Christian influences.
It seems tragic to me as I witness the unfolding of antagonism between the West and Islam in general. 9/11 had altered the tunes of harmony to a pitch that grates the global community as a whole. Coming here keeps me grounded to my believes and adds credo to my stand that once upon a time there was a moment where cultures could blend so harmoniously – we learnt from each other and thus became stronger than we could ever have been if were just alone.
We would have to relearn the lessons of the past.
How easy we forget.
