5.31.06 Over Newfoundland and Beyond

What a fabulous trip it has been, even with my illness. It ranks right behind the trip Anne and I took to Austria and Switzerland three years ago as our best ever (although my trips to Africa and Australia/New Zealand would be up there, too, if Anne had been with me).

We met the Muslims they don’t show us on TV. Apart from the looks Anne got from the women at the Cave of Abraham, we experienced nary a hint of hostility. Our hosts were, of course, self-selected as people who believe in bringing different faiths together and creating understanding. So it was to be expected that they would be friendly, as they certainly were. But the same was the case, albeit to a not-quite-so-enthusiastic degree, among people everywhere we went. And there were the street cleaner and the imam in Urfa.

This is, to be sure, Turkey, not Saudi Arabia, Iran, or Afghanistan. These are Turks, who have usually been at least somewhat tolerant of other religions. One would not expect the same welcome in many Arab countries, especially as long as the war in Iraq continues.

At our dinner in Antalya, some of our hosts asked about President Bush. All the members of our group are adamantly opposed to Bush’s policies, and we told them so. I mentioned the poll I did of historians that found Bush to be the worst president in American history. They asked, reasonably enough, how it was, then, that he could get reelected. I replied that, in my opinion, the answer can be reduced to a single word: Fear. We didn’t get into political discussions elsewhere (except with the international relations professor at Fatih University), because the Gülen movement wants to avoid divisive issues.

Intelligent Muslims in other countries as well as in Turkey make the distinction between President Bush and his cabal on the one hand and Americans in general on the other. They know that Bush and company used fear to mislead our people into war and that a substantial majority of Americans now realize that they were hoodwinked and strongly oppose him.

The people who have guided and assisted us are wonderful. I’ve already talked a lot about Sabri, Serdal, and Suphan. Can (pronounced “John”) was also wonderful. I didn’t get to know him quite as well as I did Serdal and Suphan, but Can could not have been nicer and more helpful. The same is true of Bariş Özcan, the delightful filmmaker and photographer who accompanied us on most of the trip. He and his wife came to dinner last night, and she is charming, too. All of our host families and their friends were similarly warm, friendly, and wonderful. We were showered with gifts everywhere we went.

Then there is our group of Mississippians. It is great. We all got along extremely well. Anne and I have never traveled with a group before, and we always felt that there were reasons to be concerned about problems arising. But that certainly has not been the case with this one. A large part of the reason, no doubt, is that people who are interested in promoting interfaith dialog are naturally going to be somewhat like-minded and very different from most Mississippians.

L-R: Sabri Agachan, Hillman Frazier, Jackie Rollins, Avery Rollins, Serdal Kirmizialtin, Can Topuz, Anne McElvaine, Bob McElvaine, Linda Raff, Michael Raff, Harold Hollman, Angela Cockerham, Jo Hollman, Emma Connolly, Tyree Irving, Robert Connolly, Amy Joyner, Percy Watson.

.

Our common ground certainly doesn’t mean that there is no diversity in the group. We are seven women and eight men; four blacks and eleven whites; three clergy, three state legislators, a judge, a city official, a teacher, a retired FBI agent, the director of a charitable organization, an environmental activist, a cathedral administrator, a pharmacist, and a college professor.

It has been great to get to know all of these people. It was especially good to get to know the black members of the group so much better. They are all so nice—and Tyree is nice to about the fifth power.

They don’t see a lot of black folks in these—now those—parts. Kids in Urfa thought that Angela was Condi Rice. Others mistook Percy for Morgan Freeman.

Turkey itself is such an interesting place. There are many Western influences mixed with traditional culture. McDonald’s are fairly widespread—but it appears to be a country not yet invaded by Starbuck’s. Maybe the ancient walls of Constantinople can hold back that seige a little longer. Other American fast food outlets are few and far between, and that is something to be thankful for. It is remarkable to see the freedom of expression and dress in a nation that is 99% Muslim. My admiration for what Mustafa Kemal (Atatürk) was able to accomplish in revolutionizing this country has grown enormously.

A few random observations: I saw a sign in the men’s room at the airport when we were about the depart Istanbul this morning. It showed one of the stick figure people they use on warning signs. He was seated on a toilet with a laptop open on his lap. There was a red line through the illustration.

When I went out to take photos of the wall that had been built in the 300s to defend Constantinople, I found opium poppies growing wild nearby.

Turkey knocked 6 zeros off its monetary unit a couple of years ago. Some prices are still listed in the old liras. At one of the mosque-museums in Konya, the admission price is listed as 2,000,000 TL, which seems a bit steep.

Cherries and cherry juice are staples in Turkey, and it’s easy to get semi-addicted to them. Unlike the UK and other British places, there is not a teatime in Turkey. Anytime is teatime. Turkish coffee is delicious. As for mirra . . . well, maybe someday I’ll try it again.

I was especially glad to get to see the area around Urfa, Harran, and Gaziantep, which is part of the region in which agriculture was first developed 10 to 11,000 years ago.

The Frankfort Airport wasn’t quite as bad on the way home—and we weren’t there nearly as long. Lufthansa is still serving Warsteiner and they have given us some of the most outstanding chocolate we’ve had outside of Vienna’s Sacher Tort. So, life is good, even with about 2 ½ hours sleep out of 48 by the time we get to bed in Clinton tonight.

- RSM