Sea of Marmara

With the Ottoman-Turk conquest of Istanbul in 1453 Hagia Sophia (modern structure built in 6th century by Jusinian (not Constantine like I said in the last post)) was converted from a central focus point of the Eastern Orthodox church into what was, until the construction of the Blue Mosque in 1616, the central and largest mosque in Istanbul. With this forced conversion leaving a bitter taste in my mouth it took a conscious effort to absorb the beauty and grandeur of Ayasofa as it was, without anger at the Islamic symbols now adorning the walls. From the brick work and arches that could be viewed even before entering to the heavily worn doorways grooved marble entrances eroded by the faithful feet of thousands of believers entering to pray at the feet of their respective god, the ancient age of this church of wisdom was apparent. The church/mosque has been converted a third time, most recently into a museum. This last conversion has seen an attempt to restore the intricate mosaics that adorned the entirety of Hagia’s ceilings accenting the spliced picturesque granite and marble walls. It was this restoration attempt that provoked my restrained anger. When the Sultan ordered Sophia’s Islamic transformation it entailed a massive effort to eradicate the myriad Christian symbols and artwork from the walls and architecture. The golden mosaics were plastered over, crosses and fish etched out of marble walls and railings, pictures and idols pried from their spots. My anger was not at Islam in particular; rather, I was angry at the deplorable results of an attempt to censure in

(Corners are original mosaic, middle is modern pain)

the name of religion. You see, the museums efforts to restore have uncovered a few of the picture mosaics and some of the detailed archways and mosaiced vaulted ceiling. Dumbfounded I walked with tilted head and heavy heart contemplating the “what it was” of this place. After a ferry ride across the Sea of Marmara to the Asian side of Istanbul (I’ve been in three continents in a week now), we decided that a swim was in order to stave off the clinging heat of Istanbul. Something about this heat was totally unlike the dry heat of Boise breaking 100 degrees or the humid fogginess of Midwestern summers. Maybe it is the impossibility of escape from 90 degree days that leave the sweat streaking down cheeks all day. In every building, windows are open and the air conditioning is whatever breeze grace chooses to blow from the warm Mediterranean. It is a sweltering, psychological heat; somehow the weight of it’s ancient age and its oppressively dense population, the omnipresence of the heat itself, the tangibility of the salt water air, the roasting spits of tavuk and lamb and food and rot and humanity that settle onto your skin mingling with sweat all adding up to an inescapable mental and physical heat. Add into the mix bitterness from Hagia and it was apparent to me that a short dip would be essential and cleansing for me.

Walking to the water and climbing over seawall and sea slime covered rocks, stopping to wave hello at the local old men sitting drying in the sun, and stripping to shorts Sam and I slip into the cool water of Marmara. With the salt water slipping into my mouth the worries and frustrations and sweat slips away. Refreshing. A fresh perspective allowing me to realize that instead of enjoying my experience despite the heat and disappointments, it is because of the things we don’t expect and don’t anticipate that we enjoy our experiences. The structural beauty of Hagia Sophia will persist as long as the building does, and we should be thankful for what ancient mosaics we have managed to restore. In retrospect, the unique quality of a church that began in the 6th century as an early state sponsored Roman Christian cathedral then a Eastern Orthodox central temple and then a Roman Catholic church and then again Eastern Orthodox and finally an Islamic Mosque; this church and city itself has been a major crossroads of cultures for 1500 years. This aspect, however frustrating it might be at times, is what gives Istanbul the spice, flavor, and experience that have made these days here an eye opening and amazing adventure.

Blue Mosque (Right)

Random Mosque (Left)