April 12, 2012 · 1:36 pm

Living Van Gogh in Istanbul

We’re traveling the world and avoiding entrance fees. An entrance free usually means that we’re purchasing time in a museum or manicured historic site. It also means that there are masses of tourists and we spend more time controlling the kids than appreciating the surroundings. We’ve missed some significant sites because of it, but we feel more in our element when appreciating history through things like architecture and food. Of course we make exceptions, like when we paid for the Chiang Mai Zoo or the Penang Tropical Spice Garden. Our first ticket purchase in Istanbul was today, when we we gave up 15 Lira each (about $8) to see the Van Gogh Alive exhibit.

I’ve always been a fan of Van Gogh and the exhibit is an opportunity to see 3,000 of his works interpreted in various media. I also have a somewhat gruesome curiosity about Vincent’s life – what with his time as a missionary, cutting off his ear, his obsession with Gauguin and then his supposed suicide.

The exhibit, which spotlights work during his time in France, is a high-sensory experience that transported us into the world of the complicated artist. His paintings, sketches and letters are magnified and displayed on giant screens, walls, columns and the floor of a large warehouse space. More than 3,000 images, many with superimposed moving imagery, rotate through the various backdrops. The entire experience is synchronized to surround sound classical music.

This was not a typical museum experience. The set up encouraged us to live in Van Gogh’s art, to discover what was around each column and view the pieces from every possible angle. With the powerful music, the kids didn’t have to be told to dial down their voices. Ava loved the experience, particularly when the room filled with Van Gogh’s fluffy sunflowers. Unfortunately Kayan was very disturbed when the scenery changed to dozens of gigantic self portraits looming over us. We left shortly there after, but not before paying a visit to Vincent’s Bedroom in Arles.

I could have spent the day lost underneath Van Gogh’s explosive Starry Starry Night. We didn’t know that Istanbul had this exhibit until yesterday, but it’s been a highlight of our trip so far. Who knew that a random Thursday afternoon in Istanbul would have us so profoundly appreciating something that required an entrance fee.

“Now I understand what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen
they did not know how
perhaps they’ll listen now.”
– Don McLean’s Vincent (Starry Starry Night)

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April 11, 2012 · 4:04 pm

Fish Sandwiches by the Galata Bridge

Fish is the one thing all four of us devour with equal enthusiasm. Raw, cured, smoked, fried, grilled – we’ll take it however it’s dished. Istanbul is perfectly suited for feeding us. Living between the Black Sea, Sea of Marmara and Bosphorus, Istanbullus practically have fish jumping onto their dinner plates.

We went on an evening search for the famous fish sandwiches that are sold around the Galata Bridge. The Galata Bridge exemplifies one thing I love about cities – it allows anyone to become anonymous. The crowd on its span includes elderly men smoking water pipes, women gossiping, young families clutching their children, and many fisherman, professional and novice alike. It’s a perfect place to people watch and, if you decide to take an afternoon nap amid the hustle, no one will mind if you do.

Stalls selling bait and tackle supply what’s needed to the line of expectant fishermen who perch their rods over the bridge’s railings. Our family could have spent the entire afternoon watching the life on and around the bridge. The eager fishermen were friendly (when not asleep), and the backdrop of the Aya Sofia across the bridge and the boats over the Bosphorus was enough to keep us captivated.

Once over the bridge, we began our search for the famous fish in bread, balik ekmek. The fishermen of Istanbul have been bringing in their catch from the surrounding waters to the bridge for decades. Over time, they became increasing industrious and decided to start grilling the fresh fish right on their boats. An efficient way to feed hungry customers from such tight quarters was to stuff a filet into a loaf of bread. Cheap and delicious. Istanbul has been cleaning up its hygiene in its aspirations to enter the European Union and as part of this effort, the city cracked down on these small operations. However, the tradition continues today in the form of licensed boats tied to the docks.

There are several balik ekmek boats on the Eminonu side of the Galata Bridge, each of which is attached to an open air eatery with dozens of kiddie sized picnic tables and stools. Each establishment is more crowded than the next.

We grabbed the first open table and found out quickly this would be the easiest order we’ve made so far in Istanbul. Balik ekmek is the only thing on the menu, so all we had to do was put up as many fingers as we wanted in sandwiches.

Balik ekmek is a fishy filet of grilled mackerel smacked into a half loaf of white baguette. A scoop of onion salad keeps the fish company. The traditional way to enjoy the sandwich is to drink it with pickle juice. There are separate stalls selling pickle juice, with our without the pickles.

If pickle juice is not your thing, you can buy a soft drink or water from one of the several vendors milling around the tables. I suspect such deviation from pickle juice is meant just for tourists. Dessert comes in the form of gooey donuts, also sold by walking vendors.

At 5 Lira (about $3) a sandwich, belik ekmek is one of our cheapest food purchases thus far in Turkey. It’s also one of our most satisfying. The fish choices in Istanbul have been a welcome change from our food options in central Turkey, which predominantly revolved around meat. A few clean bones of mackerel were the only evidence of our balik ekmeks. I even drank an entire glass of pickle juice.

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April 10, 2012 · 1:48 pm

International Toddler Haircut Index

Haircuts are a good way to determine the cost of services in a country. We call it the haircut index. We have no qualms about exploiting the kids in the interest of travel research, so Kayan is our haircut guinea pig. Ava won’t let anyone touch her tresses – she’s going through a prolonged hair obsession – I get a cut about once a year, and Sandeep prefers to manage his own locks.

Kayan’s first haircut was at a Greenwich Village baby salon for $40. Ouch. After that, I taught myself to cut hair and gave him monthly trims for the rest of our time in New York. His first international haircut was in Chiang Mai for $2. Several weeks later, he got another one in Penang, also for about $2. He wasn’t too thrilled about that one.

It’s been two months since I buzzed his hair in India and he was due for a new do. Our cousins were visiting Istanbul this week and needed to give their four year old boy a haircut as well, so we decided to take the tikes to one of the neighborhood salons. Istanbul is dotted with berbers, all of which have men getting leisurely shaves in reclining chairs.

The only people more groomed in Istanbul than the Turkish women are the Turkish men. We figured we were in the right place to get the boys cuts and let the berbers work their magic. For 10 Lira (about $5) each kid got an efficient 10 minute cut. Military service is compulsory for all Turkish men, who are required to serve sometime between the ages of 20 and 41. I suspect that the berbers take it upon themselves to do their part in preparing young boys for future service.

At $5, a haircut in Turkey is more than double that of our Asian stops. It’s not surprising, our daily spending on food and shelter is at least twice of what we shelled out in Thailand, Malaysia, India or Myanmar. I suppose price adjustments are also part of the cultural adjustments that come with an around the world journey.

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April 9, 2012 · 1:29 pm

Window Shopping for Carrots in Istanbul

We’re loving Istanbul. It has everything we love about a city. Architectural soul and history? Check. Coffee houses, restaurants and food choices galore? Check. Open and plentiful public spaces? Check. Good public transportation? Check. Galleries, boutiques and street art? Check.

We just got here and our explorations have barely started. Our first order of business after settling into a new place is figuring out groceries. Ava and Kayan can’t go more than a few hours without needing a yogurt or cereal fix. Luckily for us, the Turks put yogurt on nearly everything. Also luckily for us, there are three corner stores in a one block radius that sell household staples, which in Turkey includes a variety of freshly squeezed juices, nuts, olives and cheeses.

On our first day here, as we were sipping wine (also plentiful in Turkey) on our balcony, we noticed our neighbors lowering wicker baskets from their windows and balconies into the streets. Our confusion was answered when a pick-up truck filled with produce slowed to a stop on our corner. We witnessed the street’s evening ritual. The veggie guy stops by every day at six, the women send down their baskets with money, yell down their order, and the vendor places the goods and change into the basket to be hauled back up. Now that lends a whole new meaning to window shopping.

We don’t have our own basket and pulley (yet!) so I had to run down for our fruits and veggies. The next afternoon a similar ritual happened for the lentil and rice vendor. This time Sandeep went down to collect our rice.

We’ve shopped for vegetables in Thai markets. We’ve picked them off our backyard in Goa. We’ve even bought fruit off a boat in Myanmar. However, we have yet to make a produce purchase on a pulley. Yet another wonderful thing about travel – it has the potential of making an onion purchase exciting.

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April 7, 2012 · 1:39 pm

Saffron Scented Safranbolu

I’ve never been a big fan of saffron. I think its soapy taste destroys dishes. When we decided to spend two nights in the Black Sea town of Safranbolu, it was for the town’s laid back feel and architecture, not because it has been a centuries old center for saffron cultivation and trading.

UNESCO put its World Heritage Center stamp on Safranbolu for its preservation of traditional Ottoman architecture and culture. As an important caravan station on the East-West trade route, Safranbolu prospered and set a high bar for Ottoman style. We spent an entire day meandering the narrow streets, admiring the old houses, mosques, and hammam, while sipping tea and snacking on local pastries.

Even though we didn’t come for the saffron, we couldn’t escape it. Saffron is sold everywhere and in every form in the alleys of Safranbolu. There’s saffron Turkish delight, which Sandeep’s brother bought along with other exotic flavors such as rose and pistachio.

Saffron is supposed to be very good for hair and skin and there is every variety of beauty product on sale, from saffron oil to saffron soap.

Naturally, there is saffron itself, which is used in a variety of savory and sweet dishes throughout Asia, the Middle East and Europe. We weren’t here for the saffron but it was hard not to participate in the saffron exuberance. Dinner led to a turning point. We went to Kadioglu Sehzade Sofrasi, a restaurant specializing in local cuisine and ordered one of almost everything on the menu. Our dessert options were baklava or saffron pudding. Not ones to miss dessert, we caved in for the pudding. According to the people of Safranbolu, one has not lived until trying the town’s safranli zerde. I figured if anything changed my opinion on saffron, this would be it.

Sadly, to me, it still tasted like a spoonful of soap, albeit with a healthy dose of sugar. The kids didn’t much care for it either and, I suppose rather offensively, we left most if the dish untouched. While we weren’t saffron converts, we did leave Safranbolu with a lot of saffron knowledge.

– Saffron threads are the stigma of the purple saffron crocus flower. These are tediously handpicked and air dried.

– Like diamonds, saffron have grades. The grades are based on color, taste and fragrance.

– At $ 100,000 a kilogram, the spot price of saffron from Safranbolu is double that of gold. A pinch of saffron will take you further than a few gold flakes, though.

– Saffron has supposed medicinal functions including serving as an anti-depressant and immune system modulator.

We try to keep open minds when we travel, but sometimes prejudices and tastes, like my dislike for saffron, can get in the way. I was determined to avoid the spice and instead ended up fascinated by all the hype. That’s the great thing about travel, it forces you to experience new things, even if you don’t always end up loving them.

If you are a saffron fan, try out this recipe for safranli zerde.

1/4 cup short grain rice, soaked and drained
6 cups water
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon saffron soaked in a little warm water
Thickening agent, such as 3 tablespoons dissolved cornstarch

Boil the rice with half the water until just done. Drain. Boil the sugar with the remaining water. Turn down the heat to a simmer and add the rice, saffron and saffron water, and thickening agent. Stir just until it starts to bubble. Dish out into serving bowls and chill in the fridge. Serve cold.

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April 6, 2012 · 2:32 pm

Career Interview: Blacksmith in Safranbolu

Ever thought of a career switch? We’ve met many professionals on this trip that we were never be exposed to at home. Talking to these people has given us interesting perspectives on their trade and local culture. I thought we’d start sharing some of these conversations.

The Turkish town of Safranbolu has long been known as an artisan center, particularly for its leather shoes, textiles, wooden artifacts and metalwork. We meandered around the various workshops and stores and were treated to a (mostly) English speaking conversation with Kazim Madenoglu, a blacksmith.

Diya: How did you get into working with metal?

Kazim: My father and my father’s father owned these workshops. I learnt from them. I have three girls now, and this is a man’s work. No one wants to learn the trade. Once I go, all of this will be sold for nothing and the stores will close down.

Diya: Tell us something about your profession that is unique.

Kazim: See these door knockers? No two are the same and each has a different sound. Traditional Ottoman houses have two knockers, a large one used by men to alert the women inside to hide, and a small one used by women to tell the men inside to disappear.

Diya: How does one become successful in this line of work?

Kazim: You have to have my wife. I make everything but only she knows how to sell anything.

Diya: What do you like about Safranbolu?

Kazim: I have lived here all my life so I like everything. It is a small town. That’s good.

Every country we have visited has had examples of artisan industries dying out. As our world modernizes, intricate labor gets replaced by more efficient machinery and trades that were passed on through generations become at risk of extinction. Kazim is just over 40 and has many years left to practice his trade. Unfortunately, less people are buying his artifacts. Door knockers are less used in the traditional sense and are now objects of decoration for the passing tourist. For the indefinite future, all of Kazim’s heart and knowledge will be poured into his workshop. In front of Kazim’s store is a sign in Turkish. He makes it a point to show it to us. The translation is “By the time the iron becomes a griddle, the coal will have turned to ash. By the time one finally comes to his senses, his life will have passed him by in a flash.”

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April 5, 2012 · 2:17 pm

Living in Caves in Cappadocia

We spent three nights in a cave. We’ve had some unique accommodation during our trip, but sleeping in the caves of Cappadocia certainly tops the list so far. The area around Cappadocia is full of cave like sleeping options, be them underground, in mountainsides or in one of the thousands of ‘fairy chimneys’ that bubble up from the earth. These conical structures are what characterizes the topography of Cappadocia and make it one of the most sought after tourist destinations in Turkey. They were created over millions of years when consolidated volcanic ash was exposed due to continuous erosion.

The area has been inhabited for over four thousand years and reinvented by its many settlers. Between the ancient Hittite, Persian, Arab, Byzantine, Ottoman and Christian history, Cappadocia seems to be a place lost in time. Its landscape also gives it the illusion of being lost in space. We have not been on the moon (yet), but we’d imagine that it looks something like Cappadocia.

Over the past twenty years, Cappadocia’s most recent reinvention has been around the tourism industry. The fairy chimneys serve as homes as well as hotels, restaurants, hammans (bath houses), and stores. Towns, such as our temporary home of Goreme, have been built around the structures, to the point where it’s hard to tell where one chimney ends and a man made structure begins.

In addition to the bizarre landscape, the sense of spirituality left an impression on us. Up until a few hundred years ago, this area served to shelter Christians hiding from religious persecution. It was also in this region that Rumi and his resulting whirling dervishes spread their philosophy. Today, one can hear the frequent Muslim calls to prayer while visiting one of the many centuries old underground churches or monasteries. It all reminds us how far we have come – in many parts of the world at least – on religious tolerance. Most of us have the luxury of choosing what faith, if any, to follow. And with that, living in a cave can be a choice too.

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April 4, 2012 · 3:55 pm

The Hittites Surprise Us in Mazi

In these days of guide books, travel websites, blogs and opinions galore, there are few travel experiences that catch us completely off guard. Once in a while there is an exception, such as our recent experience underneath the town of Mazi in Cappadocia.

As early as 1800 B.C., the Hittites built an elaborate system of underground caves and tunnels around Cappadocia. These cities were subsequently settled and expanded by Persians and Romans. Most recently they served as refuges for Christians, who were able to continue their faith in underground hiding from Persian and Arab rule.

We were warned that the tour crowds can make the known underground cities claustrophobic. Not wanting to give up on the experience, we asked our hotel owner whether we could see a less visited location. He suggested trying the newly excavated underground cities beneath the town of Mazi.

We almost missed Mazi, a town of just about 1,000. As we slowed the car, men leaving the town mosque after the mid day prayer gathered around to study us. We must have looked thoroughly confused because a burly man came up and introduced himself as the excavator, Issa.

Issa was extremely friendly, as most Turkish have been, particularly after noticing we have two kids in tow. He invited us for Turkish coffee inside what looked like a boarded up construction area. It all seemed rather suspicious, but the town was so unassuming that we figured we’d just go with the flow and see where things took us.

Issa and his crew have only excavated a small portion of Mazi and there is a lot that they still do not know about its inhabitants. What we do know is that thousands of years ago, these people had an advanced system of communicating, managing livestock and even mulling wine.  They had clay ovens that cooked their food and heated their homes, as well as and separate areas for sleeping, bathing and cooking. They managed to build cities that stretched five stories underground and two above, the ancient versions of our skyscrapers. Their architecture was complete with air vents, escape routes, and guillotines for the unwelcome and unexpected intruder.

We learnt that the Hittites had an elaborate hierarchical system and, it this conference room, the king entered through the big doorway, while his court bowed down to make it through the shorter entry.

The scale and sophistication of these cities given their age is unlike anything that we have ever experienced. Our appreciation was all the greater because we were treated to an intimate preview of the area, which few other tourists have seen. Next year, Mazi will formally open up to tourists. The dirt lot where Issa hosted us over coffee will be a ticket area. Visitors will get to see the underground cities beneath Mazi, but they won’t be treated to Issa’s hospitality and infinite patience. For now, Issa wants to share what he has already found with others and asked for our help to make a welcome sign.

We were Issa’s only visitors for that day. While we most definitely had an experience off the tourist route, it seemed somewhat ironic that by making the sign for Issa we played a role in putting Mazi on the tourist circuit for the rest of 2012.

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April 3, 2012 · 1:36 pm

East or West in Turkey?

We were driving from Ankara to Cappadocia in Turkey. Ava and Kayan had been passed out for the two hours when Ava opened her eyes and exclaimed, “Look Kayan, it looks like New York!” When we asked why, her reply was, “The sky is blue and the clouds aren’t moving.”

We would have thought it was the snowy terrain, particularly after five months around Asia that would have reminded her of New York. Either way, we too felt the change in scenery, culture and weather after arriving in Turkey. Had we left the emerging world for the developed? Straddling both Europe and Asia, Turkey has a mixed personality. It’s a little bit East and a little bit West. It echoes ancient civilizations and empires yet boasts modern buildings and highways. Our first culture shock upon landing here was the lack of paperwork. After bureaucracy intensive Asia, it was very strange to get a Turkish visa (required upon landing for U.S. Citizens) and go through immigration and customs without filling up a single form. Good thing too, since the only writing instruments we had were color pencils. The entire process was very efficient and very impersonal. No eye contact required. It was a drastic departure from Asia, where we could barely cross the street without someone engaging us in conversation. Then, as if proving that she had different personalities, Turkey shocked us again. Upon exiting customs, a man with a big smile greeted us with a “Welcome to Turkey!” and handed each of the kids balloons boasting the Turkish flag and lollipops. Now that would never happen in New York.

The most glaring similarity to New York has been the prices. Our rental car for a week is about $1,000. Lunch at a roadside rest stop was $35, a far cry from our $1 dishes in Chiang Mai. East or West, ancient or modern, it’s all debatable. What we do know is that Turkey is opening up a whole new area of the world for us to explore. We’ve never seen New York, London, Istanbul and Baghdad so cozy together.

We’re planning to spend several weeks exploring Turkey and some of the caucuses. Perhaps by then we ‘ll know where this board is urging us to go.

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April 2, 2012 · 10:23 am

Living as Real Nomads in Sikkim

When people now ask us where we are from we usually reply that we are nomads. Here is a typical scene of our family, with our bags packed and ready to find a new temporary home.

Nomads are technically “a member of a group of people who have no fixed home and move according to the seasons from place to place in search of food, water, and grazing land.” How many if us really have a fixed home, or a single place where we find all our basic necessities? I’d say that we are all nomadic to some extent. We often work and live in separate places, spend parts of our days in a gym, jump from one restaurant to the next for dinner, maybe even couch surf on occasion. Even if you’re a homebody, chances are you’ve moved several times in your life. When it comes down to it, we all have elements of nomadic life.

While we have been nomadic for the past five months, we took our nomadic lives to the extreme during our five day trek in Sikkim. Our only option to reach Dzongri from Yuksom was by foot through the uninhabited Kanchenjunga National Park.  The Sikkim government prohibits solo trekkers and requires them to be accompanied by guides and porters (not that we would have actually tried to do the trek on our own anyway). To support our nomadic lives in Sikkim, it took a guide, a cook with two helpers/porters, a horseman, and five horses. That entire entourage was just for Sandeep and me. Like extreme nomads, our group spent each night in a new place, found new water sources wherever we were, and managed on the food we carried. Our animals did plenty of grazing.

The horseman made sure the five horses stayed together as they hauled our tent, the kitchen tent (which also doubled as a tent for our five companions), a bathroom tent (as in a tent that surrounds a hole in the ground), our bags, sleeping bags and mats, and the horse food. Sikkim has two types of pack animals, horses and dzos, which are a cross between a cow and a yak. Dzos are easier to breed and purchase, but horses are preferred as they are less prone to wandering and don’t come with the dangerous horns.

Our cook and the two helpers took everything needed for five days of pretty amazing meals. This included a gas tank, a variety of pots and pans, a table and chairs (unnecessary but definitely a bonus after a day of trekking), and the food itself. They churned out meals that included gluten free pizza and steamy soups, all from a single kerosene stove and a couple of pots..

 

At first Sandeep and I couldn’t understand why we needed an entourage of five people and five pack animals. However, we realized that we used everything that we had taken up the mountains at some point during our trek. We carried all our waste back to dispose of responsibly upon our return to Yuksom.

Traditional nomads travelled in groups and were always accompanied by animals. Our Sikkim trek brought us as close as we’ve ever been to real nomadic existance.

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