Un-rushing in Turkey
GOREME, Turkey — The majestic sight of hot air balloons as they hovered the famous fairy chimneys of Cappadocia welcomed me on my first morning here.
I’m not exactly an early riser but Cappadocia makes one not only want to wake up even before the sun rises but also gleefully and eagerly begin the day. My new Latino friend and fellow hostel guest Fabiano Luciano calls this urge to get up really early “Goreme mode”.
^ View from the terrace of my hostel
during my first hearty breakfast at the Kamelya Cave Hostel —
which, by the way, is individually prepared then served to guests
^ Photos from my newfound London-born, Hong Kong resident friend, Silas Campbell;
with minimal post-processing by yours truly
Delighting in slow mornings is a stark contrast from the daily hustle I’m so used to having in my country. Working in the media meant mostly staying up late for work then getting up early the next morning for shoots, squeezing in rests and social life only between tasks. I am happy to find comforting unhurriedness in Turkey.
Turkey was never among my dream destinations, but the longer I stay here, the more I wish this country would be in people’s travel wish list. It’s only my third day in this huge country that occupies both Europe and Asia; I haven’t even seen so much yet, but I’m already falling in love.
The night before my trip to this Cappadocian region, I booked a ticket for the whirling dervishes (sema) ceremony at the Hodjapasha Center in Istanbul.
My hostel in Istanbul was literally a few blocks away from the venue, yet I got a bit lost going there. I walked following the sometimes erratic GPS on my phone, whispering a wish that I wouldn’t miss anything in the ceremony. When I finally found my way, I arrived just in time. Thank the universe!
What’s more: I received more goodness than I asked for because, while my ticket didn’t come with a designated seat, I was placed where I’d best experience the Mevlevi Order Sufist ritual: right at the front center of the audience area.
^ Taking photos or any recording isn’t allowed during the performance.
This was shot before the program.
During the ceremony, other guests, mostly Westerners, were yawning, bored, using their phones, or rolling their eyes. I understand where the confusion and boredom come from though. The spiritual activity is repetitive if we care only for the visuals. Look deeper, and one may find the richness of symbolism.
An excerpt from the brochure provided at the Hodjapasha Cemter:
I liked it: the Sufist ritual was a meditative and enchanting experience. I don’t know much about the life and works of musical poet Mevlana Rumi, but the little that I know of him, his writings, and his beliefs are enough for me to be an admirer.
The mutuality of existence and non-existence in Sufism is not at all that different from the Buddhist concept of inter-being. Varied as these beliefs may seem, at their core will always be love.
I walked around Istanbul the morning before my flight to Nevsehir. Those I’ve met so far are amiable and helpful. The city is walkable, filled with spaces that call for some slowing down and savoring the moment. One such place I particularly liked is a seating area situated between the Hagia Sophia and the Sultanahmet Mosque (also commonly called the Blue Mosque), where I soaked in the noontime sun, eating a four-lira simit with some chocolate filling.
^ The Hagia Sophia (left) and the Sultanahment Mosque (right)
I may have perhaps stayed a little too long there that day. Had I not hailed a taksi, I would have probably missed my domestic flight. Upon checking in the airport, however, I was told my flight had been overbooked so I had to be put on standby. While there’s so much to do in Turkey, I feel its magic rests in the idea that there’s just no rush — at all. It helped that the New Istanbul Airport, which many regard as among the best in the world, has cozy nooks where I can simply bring out a book and enjoy my own company.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait for long. The airline gave me seat 1A from the same flight: it was a pleasant parting gift from Istanbul. I had the best view for the two hours traveling to the Cappadocian region took, marveling at the sight of very cushy clouds, at first cotton-like, one I’d only see in photos and paintings, then resembling Pamukkale, with lines of blue from the ocean peeking to break the pattern.
To say it was the best flight I’ve had in my life so far is an understatement.
Upon touch down, I was granted another breathtaking sight: the collusion of bright colors of the sunset.
That’s how I know the universe loves me: when I had only hoped for simple things, like not having to miss the whirling dervishes ceremony and my flight, I was given more: the best seat, calming sights, and a picturesque sunset.
A line from one of my most loved songs keeps ringing in my ear: “Life is a funny thing. Whatever you give it, it comes back to you.”
Indeed, a love of life is repaid with a life of love. I’m finally unrushing my life, and I’m gladly doing it in Turkiye. •
I’m not exactly an early riser but Cappadocia makes one not only want to wake up even before the sun rises but also gleefully and eagerly begin the day. My new Latino friend and fellow hostel guest Fabiano Luciano calls this urge to get up really early “Goreme mode”.
during my first hearty breakfast at the Kamelya Cave Hostel —
which, by the way, is individually prepared then served to guests
with minimal post-processing by yours truly
Delighting in slow mornings is a stark contrast from the daily hustle I’m so used to having in my country. Working in the media meant mostly staying up late for work then getting up early the next morning for shoots, squeezing in rests and social life only between tasks. I am happy to find comforting unhurriedness in Turkey.
Turkey was never among my dream destinations, but the longer I stay here, the more I wish this country would be in people’s travel wish list. It’s only my third day in this huge country that occupies both Europe and Asia; I haven’t even seen so much yet, but I’m already falling in love.
The night before my trip to this Cappadocian region, I booked a ticket for the whirling dervishes (sema) ceremony at the Hodjapasha Center in Istanbul.
My hostel in Istanbul was literally a few blocks away from the venue, yet I got a bit lost going there. I walked following the sometimes erratic GPS on my phone, whispering a wish that I wouldn’t miss anything in the ceremony. When I finally found my way, I arrived just in time. Thank the universe!
What’s more: I received more goodness than I asked for because, while my ticket didn’t come with a designated seat, I was placed where I’d best experience the Mevlevi Order Sufist ritual: right at the front center of the audience area.
^ Taking photos or any recording isn’t allowed during the performance.
This was shot before the program.
During the ceremony, other guests, mostly Westerners, were yawning, bored, using their phones, or rolling their eyes. I understand where the confusion and boredom come from though. The spiritual activity is repetitive if we care only for the visuals. Look deeper, and one may find the richness of symbolism.
An excerpt from the brochure provided at the Hodjapasha Cemter:
”In the universe, everything, from atoms to the solar systems and to the bloods which circulates in the body, revolves. Sema is a ritual, a spiritual journey which the soul makes to God as it becomes mature and attains unity. After this journey, it returns to its life to serve humankind again.”
I liked it: the Sufist ritual was a meditative and enchanting experience. I don’t know much about the life and works of musical poet Mevlana Rumi, but the little that I know of him, his writings, and his beliefs are enough for me to be an admirer.
The mutuality of existence and non-existence in Sufism is not at all that different from the Buddhist concept of inter-being. Varied as these beliefs may seem, at their core will always be love.
I walked around Istanbul the morning before my flight to Nevsehir. Those I’ve met so far are amiable and helpful. The city is walkable, filled with spaces that call for some slowing down and savoring the moment. One such place I particularly liked is a seating area situated between the Hagia Sophia and the Sultanahmet Mosque (also commonly called the Blue Mosque), where I soaked in the noontime sun, eating a four-lira simit with some chocolate filling.
I may have perhaps stayed a little too long there that day. Had I not hailed a taksi, I would have probably missed my domestic flight. Upon checking in the airport, however, I was told my flight had been overbooked so I had to be put on standby. While there’s so much to do in Turkey, I feel its magic rests in the idea that there’s just no rush — at all. It helped that the New Istanbul Airport, which many regard as among the best in the world, has cozy nooks where I can simply bring out a book and enjoy my own company.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait for long. The airline gave me seat 1A from the same flight: it was a pleasant parting gift from Istanbul. I had the best view for the two hours traveling to the Cappadocian region took, marveling at the sight of very cushy clouds, at first cotton-like, one I’d only see in photos and paintings, then resembling Pamukkale, with lines of blue from the ocean peeking to break the pattern.
To say it was the best flight I’ve had in my life so far is an understatement.
Upon touch down, I was granted another breathtaking sight: the collusion of bright colors of the sunset.
That’s how I know the universe loves me: when I had only hoped for simple things, like not having to miss the whirling dervishes ceremony and my flight, I was given more: the best seat, calming sights, and a picturesque sunset.
A line from one of my most loved songs keeps ringing in my ear: “Life is a funny thing. Whatever you give it, it comes back to you.”
Indeed, a love of life is repaid with a life of love. I’m finally unrushing my life, and I’m gladly doing it in Turkiye. •