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Hernando Today

A Pocketful of Chickpeas

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By J. G. NASH

Hernando Today correspondent

Published: May 27, 2008

I was first inspired to travel to Turkey by a poster framed and hung in our Turkish-themed family room. It showed an isolated hilltop palace, which was once home to a powerful and wealthy Kurdish chieftain. Although today long abandoned, and in various stages of collapse due to neglect and disassembly by the nearest villagers, the walled, hilltop complex, with its soaring towers and minarets, clearly suggested the grandeur that was reported to have once existed there. So wonderful were the accommodations therein said to have been, that visiting dignitaries from Persia, and other eastern places, were full of its praise by the time they later reached Constantinople (today's Istanbul). It was even breathlessly reported that the palace had solid gold plumbing. The Sultan was so irritated by listening to his guests rave about Ishak Pasha's palace that he made the popular Kurdish chief persona non grata (unwelcome) in Constantinople. For years, I dreamed of taking my cameras there

Twenty five years would pass before I managed to release a shutter on that incredible sight. That long-anticipated opportunity was just one part of my exciting and rewarding journey into eastern Turkey, where, even to this day, few foreign tourists venture. Come on along as we relive that trip-of-a-lifetime.

Although "No Smoking" signs were prominently displayed throughout the cabin, the air, in the Turkish Airlines flight from Istanbul, was blue with fragrant, Turkish-tobacco smoke by the time we landed at the Diyarbakir Airport, in southeastern Turkey. The typically dual-purpose (civilian and military) airfield and terminal swarmed with khaki-clad soldiers, snorting tanks, and heavily-laden trucks being deployed to control regional terrorist activity by both Kurds and Armenians. My obviously nervous driver and guide were anxious to leave the city but reluctantly agreed to take me on a quick tour. Over one of the gates through city walls said to be the second longest such on earth, I saw a set of black, leg irons, which once "held the Devil." The streets were teeming with Kurds, some of which were selling the largest watermelons I'd ever seen. We also quickly passed one of the many houses in the nation where its god-like "father" (Ataturk) was said to have slept; onward to one of the several Roman bridges still in use in Turkey; then quickly along the road towards Van, and away from the palpable tension of Diyarbakir.

If you look at a map of Turkey, you'll easily spot a large lake in the southeastern part: it is indeed the biggest lake in the nation. The city of Van (pronounced as "wahn"), is on the eastern edge of that vast, salty, land-locked, and essentially barren sea, which some compare to the famous Dead Sea in Jordan and Israel, although the latter is 1,300 feet below sea level, while Van is 6,000 feet above.

I easily found a boatman eager and willing to take me out to Akdamar Island, on which are the largely intact remains of a 9th Century church, which was in use until the First World War. Although the frescos inside are largely faded (and intentionally damaged by Moslems), the exterior reliefs are magnificent, appearing as they did more than a thousand years ago: Over there is Jonah with a whale; and here, David with lions. Except for my quietly trailing boatman, I was alone in that wonderful place, and free to reflect upon the early Christian history that is available almost everywhere in Turkey. With none of the tacky souvenir stands common to most tourist attractions around the world, marvelous places such as this offer no food nor drink, so visiting Turks usually carry their own refreshments. As I strolled the ruins, I snacked on tender, roasted chick peas, which are sold everywhere in Turkey, and which I kept well supplied in a jacket pockets, as I explored the exciting, eastern provinces.

Van was the capital of the Urartian state, about a thousand years before Christ. It is unbelievable, but true, that you can walk, alone, amongst the ancient ruins of Van Castle, atop an isolated hill near the city of Van., run your fingers over the carvings in the ancient stones, and wonder at a civilization that wrote about daily life, and used advanced tools, centuries before even the first, primitive human set foot on what is now the United States.

You may have read or heard about claims and counterclaims concerning alleged genocide practiced by Turks against Armenians and Kurds. There are many such stories told and retold around Van; it is most difficult to decide where lies the final truth. For example, I visited a leveled village, where once, reportedly, lived "peace-loving" Turks., whom were wiped out by Armenians. Then, when I was a guest at a typical, noisy, crowded, Kurdish wedding, held in someone's small, dusty, hard-dirt yard, I heard very different stories.

One could easily spend a week in Van, without scratching the surface of the region's rich history. But we must continue on our journey north, toward the Ishak Pasha Palace.

We pass through mud villages flattened by a recent earthquake (Turkey suffers from them). There's no FEMA here, so the residents are working hard to rebuild their lives, rather than sitting and griping about how slow the government has been in helping them. Soon we come in sight of snow-capped Mt. Ararat, where, so Christians believe, mankind began again, following the Great Flood. I wonder how those that wrote of that event could have picked Mt. Ararat, which they couldn't have known was the highest bit of land outside of far-off points in Asia. Could that flood really have happened as written?

I've previously set the stage for the visit to the Ishak Pasha Sari, about 5 kilometers from the undistinguished city of Dogubeyazit. The palace, which has only relatively recently been protected and restored by the government, commands the only hill for nearly as far as one can see. Inside the protecting walls, are the remains of magnificent halls, harems, and mosques. The reported gold plumbing fixtures, and gold-plated doors were said to have been carried off by Russians, whose borders are still ominously nearby. Turkey has recognized the potential tourism value of this palace, and is working hard to restore and reconstruct it. There's now even a restaurant on an adjacent hill, with a spectacular view of the palace.

It was the fulfillment of a dream to visit that palace, but mysterious Ani is our final destination. Because it literally borders the former Soviet Union (today's Armenia), and international tensions remain concerning the site, it wasn't until relatively recent times when visitors were granted permission to visit the ruins of that once-grand city. Now, access is relatively easy to gain; there are even tourist hotels near the site. Ani was first written about in 1693, but there is evidence of its existence as early as the 9th Century B.C. There are dozens of churches still visible in Ani, although the city was occupied by Turks that converted many to mosques. At one time, Ani must have been an important stop on the Silk Road, but the merchant Armenians were apparently forced to leave, and the city eventually became a ghost town. The Soviets once occupied the ruins, which are, literally, a stones throw from Armenia (once part of the Soviet Union). In later days, the Turkish military closed that border area to the public. All that now remains of Ani are barely standing, red-stone walls of a dozen churches, and suggestions of baths and markets that once were welcome to caravans of merchants. Ani is an enigma wrapped in a puzzle: were the Armenian occupants, which apparently built the many churches, forced to leave. If so, when and by whom? Was the city shelled? By whom, and when? Why won't anyone thereabouts comment on what likely happened here over the years? And why were visitors prohibited until relatively recent times? There are many theories, rumors and opinions, but we've not found a definitive, uncontroversial history of the place.

There's more — much, much more — to this one part of fascinating Turkey. If you want to really get into ancient history, and to see and experience things unknown to average tourists, arrange a visit to eastern Turkey: it'll be the trip of your lifetime. Be sure to try some roasted chic peas: they're addictive.

If you go: Winters, in the east, are brutally cold, but beautiful; road travel may then be difficult or impossible at times. April thru June are perhaps the best months to visit. Visas are required, but may be obtained upon arrival in Istanbul's airport. Don't fret about intestinal disease: just eat/drink lots of yogurt while in country, and take along related medicines—just in case. Even 3-star hotels are hard to find, but "adequate" accommodations are usually available. There are security problems in the region: Armenian and Kurdish rebels harass truck convoys; obviously foreign tourists are cautioned about wandering off alone at night, when in towns and cities. As is the case for most of the "still-developing" parts of Turkey (i.e., those without major tourist hotels) local restaurants serve some of the World's more enjoyable and memorable food. Their bread, lamb, cheese, tea, olives, and fruits are superb — especially the bread!

For further information, contact the photographer by telephone at 352/382-0512, or via E-mail at john@have-eye.com.

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