Topkapi Palace , Part Two: Harem Culture Shock

Entering the Harem

from the Courtyard of the Black Eunuchs

Visiting the Harem portion of Topkapi Palace was so darn interesting that when I finished I could have gone round again and seen it all and listened to the descriptions all over again. Why? Because visiting the Harem is unlike anything I've experienced. I had as many questions when I left the Harem as when I started. 

Keep dreaming, lady.

There's no way you're getting out of this place.

I realized later that one reason I was so intensely interested in the Harem, is the the women enslaved there were like me. When I visit a slavery exhibit in the United States, I have empathy for the slaves, but I don't identify with the slaves because they were people of color. I'm not a person of color so I see the exhibit knowing I could never have been in that position. Here, in the Harem, the slaves were white Christian women (Islam forbids the enslavement of Muslim women). They were people just like me! I'm soooo not okay with that. Here's to a future where no one of any sort is enslaved.

One of the female slaves, Roxelana, a Ukrainian Slav, grew up to marry a Sultan. She was the only concubine in hundred of years of Ottoman history who did.  The Sultan nicknamed her "Laughing Roxalena" and at her gravesight there is a sign saying something to the effect, "do not judge Roxalena by today's standards. When she lived, becoming the chief concubine to a Sultan was the most a woman could make of her life." Well I don't judge her, but I have to judge the period. White people in my country were wrong to enslave black Africans and Ottoman culture was wrong to enslave white Christian women too. Turkish people have their own reasons for judging Roxalena (which is a whole other story).

The initial entry into the Harem.

The tile is so achingly beautiful

it literally took my breath away.

Unlike most slave quarters, the physical space for the Sultan's harem was very beautiful. I am head-over-heels in love with Turkish Iznik tiles and the tile work throughout the Harem was exquisite.  So these may be some of the best-looking slave quarters built. Like all apologists for slavery, I read or heard somewhere in this exploration, "these women were probably better off than if they had just lived their normal lives wherever they were born." I don't believe it. It's still slavery, however gilded.

This ceramic tile is famous all over the world.

Turkish Iznik tiles were manufactured

at the height of the Ottoman Empire.

The audioguide explained there was a strict female heirarchy with the Harem with the Sultan's mother described not only as the most powerful lady over all of the others - it sounded like she had quite a bit of power over the Sultan as well.  Well gosh, no wonder the Empire declined! Imagine your mother-in-law having a say in running lands from Lebanon to Libya - and she didn't get out of the house much or was was even all that educated.

 I tried to think of any female heirarchies that occur naturally, and I couldn't think of any. Can you think of one? Female heirarchy seems unnatural to me.

The pebbled path was for the Sultan's horse

so he wouldn't trip as the Sultan

made his way from his Quarters

through the Harem to the outside world.

The path led to the Black Eunuch's courtyard.

The door to the Black Eunuch's dormitory.

If you don't know what an eunuch is,

you'll have to look it up in the dictionary.

Yes, they really existed. That wasn't an urban legend.

Gorgeous detailing

 over the door to the dormitory.

It's magnificent, isn't it?

Here a younger eunuch

is instructed by the Chief Eunuch,

who apparently yielded enormous power.

Topkapi Palace barely grazes the Eunuch's story.

Both their dormitory and their mosque are off-limits

to visitors.

I find their story as fascinating as the harem slaves

and wish Topkapi had shared more about the entire

Palace community, especially the Eunuchs.

I mean, it's not everyday one learn about eunuchs.

Which path should the Sultan take into the Harem?

The Eunuchs were posted around the clock

in this small antechamber

to protect the Harem women.

They used these two facing mirrors

to see down the various passageways

so they were forewarned if someone was coming.

Looking back on the Black Eunuch's courtyard.

Isn't that portico so classic and contemplative?

The path leads to the Sultan's horse mount

outside his own chambers.

This is called the Passageway of the Concubines.

Just like a solitary confinement prison, the prisoners

were not allowed interaction with the guards.

The eunuchs would leave the food for the ladies

on the counters on the left wall and then leave.

This is the Courtyard of the Concubines.

If a women bore the Sultan a son, she hit the big time

and could get a window with a view...onto this courtyard.

Imagining their plight...

what do all prisoners do, but look to the sky.

The harem has many parts that are off-limits to guests. The private quarters of the Valdin Sultan (the Sultan's mother), the Harem hammam, the Eunuch dormitory and mosque, plus the concubine's dormitories. At any one time, the Sultan had 300 concubines.  Only one of the Harem's six levels is shown to the public. Why do they charge extra to see this portion of the palace? It lessens the number of visitors. But then, maybe that's the idea.

The young women who were sold into the Harem were often sold by their parents for cash or grain. What's your opinion? Do you think they were better off as gilded Ottoman slaves?

You might enjoy my first post on Topkapi Palace:

Topkapi Palace, Part One: Would This Environment Keep You Conquering?



Talking About "My People," Iowans, to the Travel Junkies

"American Gothic"

by Iowa artist Grant Wood 

If you live away from where you grew up, have you ever received an invitation to talk about "your people," those that raised you and the culture you grew up in? I can't say I had before. But one of the pleasures of living in Istanbul and having so many expat friends is that I interact with a variety of international people everyday.

My Internations travel group, the Travel Junkies (who I will write more about in future posts), began hosting evenings where individual members shared about the place they came from. The woman who spoke immediately before me spoke about her homeland of Iran. I joked it was just a little intimidating to follow an 8,000-year-old culture to tell about my home state of Iowa, which became a state a mere 166 years ago! 

 

 Repeat three times please: Iowa = corn!

The first things I wanted to teach my friends was to never mix up Iowa, Idaho, and Ohio ever again. Americans always confuse the three and ask Iowans about potatoes and Idahoans about corn.

The President of Iowa State University

at the National Archives in Washington D.C.

celebrating the 150th anniversary of the Morrill Act.

The Morrill Act gave every state in America

that wanted to participate

30,000 acres of federal land to use for a university to

uplift the population.

My hometown of Ames, Iowa, was the first

place in the nation to accept this land grant.

The result today: Iowa State University,

one of the world's most successful

agriculture and technical research universities

in the world supported by a mere 3,000,000 Iowans!

I then was deeply proud to share about Iowa's educational legacy. One of the best things I've ever read on just how good Iowa public education was in Tom Wolfe's book "Hooking Up," a series of essays about American culture. In it he wrote an inspiring essay detailing the impact Iowa public education had on Robert Noyce, a founding chairman of Intel, and a man frequently described as "the father of Silicon Valley."

 Besides describing Noyce's educational experiences growing up in Iowa and at Grinnell College in Grinnell, Iowa specifically, Tom Wolfe made the case that the business casual dress popularized the IT industry was just Noyce's Midwestern lack of fashion pretense institutionalized into Silicon Valley culture.

I love that story, as one would never imagine Iowans having an impact on fashion. We are not a fashion forward people. But we are a deeply democratic people. There is no "us and them" in Iowa, when I grew up there, we viewed ourselves as "us."

Iowa has the highest per capita number of high school graduates of any state in the nation (as well it should since it was the first state in the nation to insitutionalize high school), the highest literacy rate of any state in the nation, we have two cities out of the top three with the most number of PhDs per capita (Ames, Iowa and Iowa City, Iowa share that distinction with Boulder, Colorado).

The beautiful law library

at the Iowa State Capitol building -

frequently used as a television backdrop

for Iowa caucus reporting by national news organizations

Indeed, literacy is so darn important in Iowa, that our recent first lady, Christie Vilsack, visited every single public library in the State because she considered public libraries the most important provider of culture in each town. Some of those libraries were probably one room! She still visited them because those libraries brought their citizens the greater outside world.

Iowa's appreciation of reading and literature is so profound it's even been recognized by UNESCO. Iowa City, Iowa was named a "City of Literature" by UNESCO along with Dublin, Reykjavik, Melbourne, and Edinburgh.

After all, the University of Iowa (where I received my M.A. in Library and Information Science) is home to the Iowa Writer's Workshop, the very first creative writing program in the nation. It draws not only nationally-famous writers, but internationally-known writers. For example, Orhan Pamuk, Turkey's Nobel laureate for literature, has spent time at the Iowa Writer's Workshop. UNESCO speculated Iowa City may be the most literary spot in the world for its size.  It has a mere 67,000 people and was recognized with those large world-famous cities!

"Spring in Town"

painted by Iowa artist

Grant Wood, 1941

In addition to our educational values, I thought our next most important deeply-held value was in feeding the world. Iowa is first in the nation in corn production, first in the nation in soybean production, 1st in the nation in hog production (the most searched for recipe on the Internet in America is for pork chops) 1st in the nation in egg production, and 2nd in the nation in beef production. Indeed, 90% of all Iowa's land is used in farming which resulted in Iowa contributing $4.5 billion in exports to help America's balance of trade in 2005.

Notice the precise geometry

of Iowa farming.

It's a sublter beauty than mountains and oceans,

but it is beauty, nonetheless.

My friends were fascinated by the combination of a highly agricultural state combined with a high level of education in the general population. Most Iowans live in cities. It's hard for folks who come from countries where agriculture is all about peasant traditions to imagine a place where high education levels and ag can be combined.

Dr. Borlaug

Iowans care about feeding the world so much there is now a prize coming out of Iowa started by one of our own, Dr. Norman Borlaug, the ag scientist who is credited with saving more human life than anyone else who has ever lived in the history of the world. Coming from a small farm in Cresco, Iowa, born of Norwegian heritage, Dr. Borlag helped farmers globally increase their yields. He won the Nobel Peace Prize for his efforts.

The Iowa-generated World Food Prize is a mere 22 years old, but hopes to be recognized as the "Nobel Prize of Food," honoring those innovators in politics and science who find new ways to feed humanity. The Secretary of State announces the winner every year and the Secretary General of the United Nations comes to the awards ceremony each year. I hope, gentle reader, that you will care as much about who wins this award, as any other. I think it is that important, don't you?

A talk about Iowa wouldn't be complete without an explanation of the whole Iowa presidential primary caucus system. I think Iowa maintains its first in the nation status for selecting the president through a primary caucus for a very important reason. The first place to get a crack at judging future presidents should not only be highly educated but small enough for retail politics. Iowa is both. Candidates have to interact personally with Iowans, instead of selling themselves in paid media campaigns.

There is even a joke about it. A presidential candidate asks an Iowan for his vote in the upcoming caucus and the Iowan says, "I can't vote for you yet. I've only interacted with you three times." When I was a county chair for Bob Dole when he was running for President, it was fun to host Elizabeth Dole in my mom's living room where she preceded to tell us why Bob would make a great President.

Iowa (97% white), literally made Obama a star, when in 2008, chose him above everyone else as the winner of the Democratic caucus. He finished his 2012 campaign in Iowa too, combining sentimentality and swing-state saavy.

I described three Iowa companies I thought would impact the entire world culturally: Pioneer Hybrid for genetically-modified foods, Pinterest, a social media company for sharing visual media, and Dwolla, a brand new financial services company that makes money transfers inexpensive between people and companies.

The Iowa butter cow,

and her current sculptor, Sarah Pratt

Since my friends were travel junkies, I wanted to make sure they knew the four most important tourist things to do in Iowa. First is riding on RAGBRAI, the 10,000-strong annual bike ride across Iowa that occurs every July. The second is driving the Iowa River Road along the Mississippi, what National Geographic Magazine calls as on of the "500 Drives for a lifetime," third is spending a day at the Iowa State Fair with a special look at the sculpted "butter cow," and my last suggestion was renting a houseboat to float down the Mississippi.

You don't have to be in Istanbul, or even an expat, to carry out this idea of rotating travelogues from natives to friends. I've loved attending each one (usually presented with a meal that matches the country) and so far I have learned about Trinidad and Tobago, Lebanon, Sudan, and Iran.

Just gather a bunch of international friends and put on evenings for each other. I felt deeply honored that my friends cared enough about me to learn about "my people." I had great fun and renewed passion for my birthplace putting my presentation together. Yea Iowa! That's where the tall corn grows.

Here are four other Iowa-related posts I wrote you might enjoy:

You're My Al Bell!

Enjoying Hometown Friends in Istanbul

Dvorak Embraced Spillville, Iowa; Spillville, Iowa Embraced Dvorak

UNESCO Names Iowa City, Iowa a "City of Literature"

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Meeting the Kilners: a visit to the home of the U.S. Consul General in Istanbul

 American ladies arriving at the entrance.
 

Jennie Toner, far right and front

just founded the
Istanbul Instructors' Network

with eight colleagues.

Every year, the Professional American Women of Istanbul are invited to the home of America's Consul General in Istanbul. The title of Consul General refers to America's highest diplomat in an important city that isn't the capital city.

I had no expectations of what it would be like but, I was especially looking forward to this, as I have two friends who have served as America's Consul General around the world. One friend served in Perth, Australia, and another friend served in Mumbai, India. I was never able to visit them while they held those posts so I thought my visit to the Kilner's residence might give me a feeling for what my friends' lives were like when they served. Now one of my friends has become an American ambassador, but he's in a country so off the commercial beaten path and expensive to visit, he's going to retire without me ever having visited him and his family in their country of service.

 Hope Mandel and her friend Christy.

Hope is here in Istanbul

working for the Nielsen Company
as a Client Business Partner.
 

It's hard to see in this photo,

but this was a lovely view of the church

in the background.

Weekends in Istanbul have been spectacular this fall, that Saturday morning was no different. The U.S. Consul residence is in the Arnavutköy neighborhood. I haven't explored this neighborhood yet, but need to do so soon, as a simple walk through one day told me it was adorable. The streets give an old Ottoman feeling of close wooden houses with overhanging second stories. At the windows of many homes are beautiful flowers. About twelve of us American ladies met that morning and took a taxi from Besiktas to the residence and it was quite an adventure finding the home in Arnavutköy and getting there.

 Me, stopping to take a picture

 in celebration of the peaceful feeling
of the grounds

A view of the back of the house.

A lawn like this

is a very rare thing in Istanbul.

 Enjoying brunch and conversation

on the back porch

A lovely place to sit in the back yard

and enjoy the view of shipping traffic

passing through the Bosphorus.

 

I find it impossible to tire of watching the ships

go through. They are magnificent.

 U.S. Consul General Scott Kilner
and Vanessa H. Larson,

managing editor of the new global start-up

Culinary Backstreets.

The both speak fluent Turkish, being experienced Turkophiles,

but here they are speaking English.

Enjoying the morning

Me with Adrian Hodges,

writer of the blog "Postcards from Istanbul."

Adrian is a newlywed bursting with joy.

Helene Bumbalo is just beginning her expat adventure.

She is quickly becoming an expert on teaching

"Aviation English."

We had fun and were inspired!

Mrs. Kilner welcomed us to her home and I made a point of thanking her for her service to our country. I think it is important to acknowledge the service supportive spouses give America when they are married to people who serve America professionally, because those spouses do so at considerable sacrifice to their own careers. They don't often get to choose where they will live or how long they will be there. A simple acknowledgement of this gift they give us seems like an important thing to do, don't you agree? I think it's important to say to military spouses and children too.

Everything about the morning made me so proud of my country and American values. I appreciated that the house was grand, like my nation, but our representatives were wonderfully down-to-earth and approachable. I appreciated the two Marines who were present to invite us to their annual Marine Corps ball. I loved the helpful attitude of the consular staff as they worked to answer questions about voting issues and general safety issues. I appreciated how deeply knowledgeable our Consul General is about Turkey and how much time the Kilners have in the country having served in three different posts: Adana, Ankara, and Istanbul.

When I was telling one of my Turkish girlfriends about our morning at the Consul General's house, she said, "I would have to get my hair done for that and get a new dress. It would be impossible to go without maximum effort." I think she was shocked to learn that many Americans felt comfortable going in jeans. It was a Saturday morning, for heaven's sake! I like that we Americans don't always feel the need to dress to impress and could just enjoy each other as authentically as possible.

Sometimes though, Americans can take casual too far. Ninety-five of us R.S.V.P.ed and said we would come and only 55 showed up.

Istanbul is an especially intense post, maybe one of the most intense in the world, due to Turkey's strategic position and regional issues. I believe the Secretary of State has come to Istanbul four times over the past year on business, which doesn't usually happen at consular posts.

After we had enjoyed brunch, Mr. Kilner gave us a 20-minute overview of issues affecting the region. I think there is an etiquette rule that if you go to the White House, you shouldn't repeat everything the President said, otherwise he or she never feels free to talk. So I will extend that same courtesy to Mr. Kilner, as his office has incredibly complex issues in their hands regarding Syria and surrounding international tension. I am sure that "sober" is a word that is completely overused in diplomatic circles, but I felt reassured, as best as an ordinary citizen can feel reassured, that my government is approaching these issues with thoughtful sobriety.

After we left that day, a bunch of us were riding the bus back to central Istanbul, and one of the ladies who had been a foreign service wife told us that before 1970, foreign service wives used to be rated on how much charity work they did, on their entertaining, etc. Imagine! They weren't even paid or held a position, but the U.S. government felt free to rate them.

People like Mrs. Kilner who support their spouse in representing our country are now a disappearing species, as many spouses choose to have their own career.  I'm grateful for both the Kilners and appreciated the opportunity to see how my beloved nation is represented in Istanbul.

Several photos courtesy of Hope Mandel.

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I lasted a month-and-a-half in Cihangir

By far the best thing about living in the Istanbul neighborhood of Cihangir was how centrally located it was. I could walk to the Istanbul Modern and to church (which still took an hour to get to - but this time on foot). Cihangir came highly recommended by newspapers and foreigners alike, although not necessarily the locals.

What I didn't consider before moving, was that Cihangir is so centrally located, every single Erasmus exchange student who had come to Istanbul for six months would be walking down my street at 1 a.m., 2 a.m., 3 a.m. 4 a.m. and 5 a.m. after a long night of dancing and drinking. Each hour of the evening's activities would then have to be discussed in very loud foreign girl and boy voices where dismay or giggles would be promptly shared by their friends, also in equally loud foreign girl and boy voices. If it had been a really good night, the drunken singing would start.

In addition, neighborhood men would love to sit on the building stoop and discuss life until 2 a.m. The neighbors might play their oud and bongos until 4 a.m. prompting neighborhood residents to come out on their balconies and yell for quiet. The taxis and shuttle buses would take a shortcut to the sea road on my street all night long.

The future Maxim Hotel

for now, an empty construction lot

Up the street from me, was a very fun construction site to watch transform during the daytime - but not so fun at night. The construction workers worked in two 12-hour shifts and had for months. Dirt and grime floated everywhere from their efforts. And worst of all, were the dump trucks full of dirt rattling and clanging down my hill at 3 a.m.

Not exactly "lite" construction

 

Cihangir has magnificent views. When searching for my initial apartment and then a second one, I saw so many breathtaking views of the Bosphorus. Indeed, right next to the Cihangir mosque, is a park with a spectacular vista of the Bosphorus, the cruise ships, the Hagia Sophia, and the Blue Mosque. Regular folks can't enjoy it though because it is always filled with 1-5 winos sleeping it off. The winos are in no way dangerous but they leave their bottles and litter everywhere. 

 

So, because of the noise, I decided to find a new neighborhood. I've since moved to Beşiktaş, another centrally-located neighborhood, but one step removed from "too much" activity. Everyday in the first two weeks, it seemed, I discovered yet another girlfriend lives in the neighborhood. I got it right this time.

 

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Having a Morning Wander in Cihangir

One of my rules of life is that each day must include discovery. I recently moved into a new flat in Istanbul and decided the morning after moving day to see what my neighborhood had to offer.

Looking down my street to the Bosphorus

There's a busy street at the bottom

but it is easy to cross over or under.

A bit of cheerful tromp l'oeil as I walk by.

An Ottoman Grave preserved behind a shop window,

the turban signifies he was a man,

presumably named Sofu Baba.

People slip into the small room to pray.
I wonder what his story is!

Not everything is exotic

Domino's scooters,

complete with an advertisement on the box,

for a 30-minute guarantee.

 

In Istanbul, it seems you can get everything delivered.

If all you want is one single hamburger,

 someone on a scooter will race over to your house with it -

and I do mean "race."

Scooter drivers seem to drive like stuntmen.

The bread seller loaded down

with his morning wares.

How fantastic is this?

A yoga studio on my street.

I pause a moment to appreciate the beautiful tile work

in the underpass.
One of the Ottoman sultans loved tulips

and tulips have been a recurring theme in Istanbul
 ever since.

Morning commuters rushing off the ferry.

They have either come from the Asian side

or one of the islands.

A beautiful Ottoman-era public fountain

constructed out of marble

It's common to run across film crews

in central Istanbul

I've seen up to four cruise ships

docked end-to-end in this Bosphorus port.

Pinch this Iowa girl!

I've never lived within walking distance

of salt water.

Beautiful Ottoman script over a public fountain

Ottoman window detailing

Looking back up the hills:

how does the average 8-year-old in Istanbul

resist this chute?

 

It just screams "TOY"

to my inner child.

 

I can't help but imagine marbles...melons...

water balloons... little Mehmet...

rolling all the way down to the street.

 

Kids, don't try this at home.

 Coming across a nargile station

connected to the popular nargile cafe

in front of the Istanbul Modern Art Museum.
 

I've been to this cafe before.

 It's easy to get comfortable on their big divans

shaped in a semi-circle
and contemplate life at a slower pace.
The divans can fit you and up to eight of your friends.

I don't know if these are new or old coals.

Right in front of all of the cruise ships
is the Istanbul Modern Art Museum.

Can it be?
I live within walking distance of the
Istanbul equivalent of MOMA
(the Museum of Modern Art)?
Pinch me twice!

Taking a closer look at the life boats.

 It fascinated me that this was the first shop
cruise passengers see as they leave the ship.

According to the staff, this dock served Russian freighters
before cruise ships and the freighter's vendors haven't moved yet.

 A view of Nusretiye Camii (mosque)
from the Nargile Cafe

 The mosque was built in 1825.
Let's walk around to the front of it.

Looking up at the minarets.

It's a beautiful day.

Isn't it fun to discover?

Can you guess what affected these trees

outside sidewalk cafes?

An example of the renovation

that is occuring all over Istanbul.

This will probably be a hotel

or new condominums.

The shore road takes us back into
more of the industrial part.

You don't run across one of these everyday!

A maritime shop

selling ? What is this exactly?

I know the shape from the movies

but I can't name it.

I have better luck naming this -

a captain's wheel.

I wonder if ships keep a spare.

I can't imagine they'd want to be without one.

 

The man minding the shop good-naturedly put up

with my poking around. It was fun to imagine an

alternative life as a merchant mariner.

Merchant mariners have better poetry

than most industrial sectors

but I think I'd get sea sick.

I never imagined spies advertising!

Let's keep our eyes peeled for him...or her.

 

Discovery and mystery on my morning wander

...the perfect combination.