THE ETHNOGRAPHY MUSEUM AND CAPPADOCIA

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

CAPPADOCIA IS STUPENDOUS. WE HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS - WE ARE IN ANOTHER WORLD.

Our new driver, Mehmet Gük, picks us up from ‘Lojmans’ 6 and 11 (probably derived from the French!). He is a little dubious when I ask to be taken to the Ethnography Museum, where he has never been (he is from Cappadocia), but ventures out in the traffic - and after a few wrong turns we do get there. Turns out to a good idea, the place is, as the guidebook says, a little gem, showing the beautiful Turkish embroidery, woodwork, carpet-making, and pottery. One life-size tableau shows a woman getting ready for her wedding ceremony, another the womanly activity around a sleeping boy about to undergo circumcision.

Then we are off again, driving south-east in the direction of Cappadocia. We are impressed with the flat landscape that surrounds us with not a single tree in sight. We stop at a salt-water lake, bordered by rough salt so bright that you lose the sensation of where the salt ends and the water begins. 

Three hours later we see our first cave dwellings. We are so excited that we can barely wait to get out of the car. In the scorching heat we climb up narrow passageways and over boulders until we stand in the caves and churches used by humans thousands of years of years ago. We cannot stop taking photos. We are as if surrounded by sculptures. 

Our next stop is a lookout, with a spectacular view of a castle set by a lake and with snowcapped volcano, Mt. Erciyes, in the distance. 

Then we go to see the Kizil Kilise (Red Church) made of large blocks of red stones. It stands by itself in grassy hills reminding me of western Ireland. 

On another hill we see a group of large transparent tents. 3 guys, who have arrived while we are looking at the church, and who are now talking with Mehmet, inform us that they are part of the group of 70 or so forest workers living in those tents for some months now, working on the reforestation of the smooth slopes surrounding us.

The best it yet to some. When from the car Keith spots a little village with cave dwelling that looks like they might be in use, we stop to take a look. Mehmet is an expansive friendly type, who makes friends wherever he goes, so he quickly gets talking to some of the woman wearing white cotton scarves around their tanned weather-beaten faces and big skirts to the ground. 

There are children of various ages, but they are dressed like western children. The caves now are mostly used as storage rooms, but not so long ago served as hiding places when there was danger from invading troops. When I have to cross though a recently dumped mound of manure (picking my way gingerly along the side) and exclaim: WEOW! I hear giggling from behind a wall where 3 women are working. I see a cow moving around inside a little rickety house, three fierce (tied-up, thank God) dogs barking crazily, and a black donkey with a contemplative look, also tied up in a little patch of grass. On a nearby hill an elderly white-scarved woman in a long skirt follows and talks to a cow walking slowly in front of her in search of a good spot. 3 other cows are grazing steadily in the school grounds next to us. It is utterly peaceful with a pleasant smell of animals, sun and grass in the air. Mehmet takes us to an ancient little mosque, where we meet the 23-year-old imam. 

He agrees to sing for us, so puts on his ceremonial hat, turns towards Mecca cradling his face in his hands so as to direct the sound, and then starts his prayer :Allah.... His voice in so beautiful and clear, and the surroundings so true and humble that we are all deeply moved. Only 23 years old and living there with his own little family serving 26 families. Just amazing. On our way out the women have cleared away the dirt, and we meet an old man on a donkey, who cannot sell his walking stick to Keith, because he needs it himself. We cast a last look at the village and on a lone cow who has strayed over to another hill, wondering how she will get down. From the car I see the old woman and her cow have reached a brook, where the cow is drinking with the woman looking on in the afternoon sun.

So many impressions. It is time to find the converted 19th century monastery Karballa Hotel in the village of Güzelyurt (stress on second syllable), where we will have an early night in a pretty and cool room.