ISTANBUL: THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE

It seems that every building in Istanbul, at least in the Sultanahmet section (the old city), has a spiral staircase. Many hotels have a rooftop restaurant, and even though they have an elevator, the rooftop is accessed by a spiral staircase. These are sometimes tricky to navigate, especially at night when, if you don't move quickly, the motion-sensor hall light switches turn off and you're left in the dark on a narrow spiral stairway.

The spiral stairway is a connector, it allows access to every level in the building, yet takes up only a small amount of space.

The Bosphorus is the body of water that connects the Marmara Sea and the Black Sea, and is the divide between the European and Asian sides of Istanbul. If you look at a map, the Bosphorus is shaped somewhat like a spiral staircase. It, too, is a connector, allowing access to both Asia and Europe in this marvelous city. As we visit various historic sites in Istanbul, we are struck by the pivotal role this city has played through the ages. It has been a major hub for commerce and conquest, and the Bosphorus is a major part of the key.

OK, so perhaps I've carried this one as far as it can go. But the truth is that being in Istanbul is being on a spiral staircase. Once you've gotten part way, the way ahead, as well as the way behind - the past and the future - are full of twists, turns, and potential darkness/mystery. What a fantastic history! The conquests and empires, the diversity of peoples, the influences of multiple cultures, the multitude of landforms and landscapes. Our visit to the Archaeology Museum and the ancient city of Ephesus only whetted our appetites for knowledge about this part of the world, this spiral staircase (aha, I did it!). 

And what about the future? Turkey is in major transitions both politically and culturally. We understand that there are an increasing number of people who are more traditional Muslims, with women wearing head coverings as well as full coverings. There is a growing struggle between secularism and religion. Turkey is also changing with the regional geo-political shifts in the Middle East and this part of Asia; and the Turks want to be the regional powerhouse. This means new and stronger ties with Iran, as well as the emerging governments in the "Arab Spring" nations. The future is the unseen way ahead on the spiral staircase. 

As I posted on Facebook this morning, we're travel weary and longing for home. There are things about this culture that wear us down; primarily the sense of being seen as wealthy tourists = an easy mark. But we've met wonderful people, seen incredible things, and overall have enjoyed being here for this brief time. 

I'll put together a group of photos on Picasa and link it from here for you to enjoy, dear reader. Until then, thank you for reading this, and we hope you enjoy your own travel adventures. 

Four Countries, Four Languages, Multiple cuisines and Myriads of Peoples

Peter Spiers wrote a wonderful book for children back in the late 1970's or early 80's called "People." On this journey, we have been walking through the pages of that book.

Women and men of various Jewish, Christian or Muslim faiths, and from more secular bents walk by in a multitude of headresses, some so covered one only sees their downcast eyes, some quite exposed. The gamut of cultures, and of ideologies, is in the crush of humans all traveling to see someplace else, or dealing with the tourists as they pitch, extol to buy, or ignore us.

We have loved the sites and sights of Amsterdam, Mykonos, Jerusalem, Rosh HaNikra, Shorashim, Rosh Pina, Tel Aviv, and Istanbul. So many religious garbs, so many languages, so many cuisines, and layer upon layer of history. We have spoken with people from more countries than I can remember; here are a few: Iran, Morroco, Saudi Arabia, Korea, Kuwait, Qatar, Italy, France, and of course the four countries we have, or are visiting: Holland, Greece, Israel, Turkey. These countries each have such distinctly different languages; Dutch, Greek, Hebrew, Arabic, and Turkish. A main language many of the Turks want to learn, or do know, is Russian.

I can always pick up some of the Italian, French, Spanish, and German I hear around me. In Israel I could catch snippets of Hebrew. I feel proud to be able to now have a few words in each of them. And I am thrilled that I can now read a lot of Hebrew without the vowels! I read every sign, then it's translation. I am trying to do this with Arabic.

On our first day at lunch in Istanbul we sat next to a couple from Lake Oswego (just outside Portland, Oregon), and this morning at breakfast, a mother and daughter from Seattle. 

This is always what I take away from our travels: the astonishing wonder of what people can and do create in architecture, art, poetry, music, urban planning, cuisines, and the amazing similarities and diversities in how people worship. " People" was written to build tolerance and acceptance. But as we examine the layers of history, the conquests, wars, and destruction through the millenia, or as we catch snippets of news we are all too aware that divisiveness, extremism, sexism, racism, and politcization of ideology is our lot as humans. But this not what we are focusing on right now.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

ISRAEL 2012

How about more pictures and fewer words? OK, it's a deal.

Click this link

Enjoy.

Israel is a tiny country with a big heart, a large diversity of people, many beautiful landscapes, and, of course, lots of history and old stuff. This was our 4th time in Israel, so we spent more time visiting and enjoying than being tourists (although we did some of that).

I will be posting a political commentary about Israel in a global context, as a target of discrimination, and about the psyche of the people on another one of my blogs: readmyopinion.blogspot.com. But for now, let's enjoy the beauty of the land and people.

Impressions of Amsterdam

Overwhelming crowds, mostly tourist. Trash in  Dam Square, in front of the Central Train Station (a stunning building), in streets and on sidewalks,  everywhere.  Few trash or recycling cans visible. Crews of works rattle, bang and clatter with odd looking small vehicles clean trash up under one's feet at various times of the day.  Too many smokers; it's difficult to breathe as I pass the ubiquitous cigarettes, dangled from so many hands. The butts fill crevices. In Dam Square, no planters of flowers & no greenery. There is an endless din; and yet:

Two blocks away and in many directions from Center, ahhh the charm! Canals, cobblestone sidewalks, great cafes and restaurants, intriguing shops. And stupendous diversity. Even trees, shrubs and flowers line walks. Byciclists ride around on fat tired older bycicles. They don't race, don't wear lycra, don't wear helmets; some are comical: one bycycle had a dining room chair (yes the full chair) for a seat; one bicyclist had a box bed with someone laying in it, playing the harmonica. 

We have met mostly lovely people.  A real diversity of cultures is blended into the fabric of this country. The history of Dutch enterprise and extensive territories from around the world is so embroidered into current culture. There are Japanese, Argentinian, Turkish, Chinese, Indian, Indonesian, Italian and multiple other restaurants throughout neighborhoods. 

The Jewish history is it's own story. We went to the Jewish Museum, Portugese Synagogue, Rembrandt's house,  the Anne Frank House, the Riksjmuseum, and found the Jewish presence in all of these. Sephardic Jews had been accepted into Protestant Netherlands after the Inquisition forced them from Portugal. Some who had been forcibly converted became Jews again. The Jews were allowed religious freedom from the beginning, but were excluded from the guilds.. They were able to run businesses, many became burghers, advisors, physicians, philosophers, even a baron.

Through the centuries the tolerance allowed a modicum of living as the Dutch citizenry. The exclusions belied the absolute acceptance.

The Dutch Resistance Museum included the story of resistance in Holland, and in the Dutch colonies, encompassing all the arenas of WWII. The racist arrogance of both the Aryan Germans and the Japanese as they occupied respectively: Holland and Indonesia (a Dutch Colony). You are our "Aryan/Asian brothers," wasn't successful. When they encountered massive resistance the German and Japanese viciousness of cruelty was beyond evil.

Dutch resistance: The day the roundup of the Jews occurred, the entire nation went on strike. They organized to fight, hide Jews. and infiltrate. The Dutch Nazis were there too. The resistance movement was comprised of factions: Nationalists, Labor/Communists, Reform Protestants. They were never united; divided they fell.  Compliance had a place in the defeat. Everyone under the occupation, at the early stage, got a national identity. Easy roundups for the Nazis, yes?

An aside: Progressives and Liberals in the U.S. need to take note. We need to unite and get nuanced about our politics. Support the best we have, stop seeking perfection.

After the war the pain of indiferrence meant no assistance for survivors. The Jews and the resisters sent to labor/concentration camps were offered no help.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Last Day on Mykonos (August 18), the Greek Party Island

We spent a week on Mykonos, and didn't go into the town of Mykonos (locally known as Chara) until the day we were leaving. This really amazed the rental agent for the villa we rented; however, we weren't there to party, we were there to relax. From our villa, which was across the bay from town, we could watch the floating resort hotels arrive and depart, and we were very thankful to be watching from a distance, rather than being in the middle of it.

We are foodies. Eric, Rebecca, Max, Sophie, Sherry and I love to cook and eat good food. And so we did. Every morning started with a few batches of Greek coffee to get the adults going.






And we shopped 2 or 3 times that week for fresh produce, fish and meat. A few examples:


Max prepared a yummy omelette for everyone. The kid can cook!


Eric and I found fresh prawns at the fish market. Add a Greek salad, sauteed veggies with hard Greek cheese, a braided bread that resembled a challah, and - of course - a chilled Greek white wine, and, oh yes, that's good eating!







But the sun always sets on a good time, and so we packed our bags, watched our last sunset from the deck of Villa Cleo, and prepared to move on to more adventures.

On the last day, we checked out of the villa and spent a few hours in town, which was rather nice. And so here are a few pix and thoughts:


A typical street in Mykonos town; very charming, bright, colorful and filled with so many places to spend money!


You can't visit a Greek island without taking at least one photo of a fisherman and his boat, so here it is.


The famous Mykonos windmills which, as far as I can tell, have only ever served one purpose - posing for photographs by tourists. They are doing a great job, yes?


See what I mean?


Petros the Pelican (no, that's Max in the foreground) is the official Mykonos iconic wildlife representative. This guy (I have no idea what sex it really is) strolls through the town, and when people start pointing cameras at him, he stops and poses (really!). He allows himself to be petted. I'm guessing that locals feed him. What a life. (I think he is the 4th or 5th official Petros.)


Eric and Sophie took the 3-hour round trip and tour to the island of Delos to see the incredible ancient ruins. The entire island is a cultural site, and has no residents. This is what it looked like as their boat was returning to Mykonos; it was a wild ride, and they enjoyed it.

From Mykonos, we flew to Athens, sat around for a few hours, and then flew to Tel Aviv, Israel, arriving at 1230AM. We checked into our hotel in Jerusalem at about 2AM Sunday morning. My next post: Israel.

- posted from the fisheyepad

PART OF A DAY IN PARADISE

We spent part of today in Paradise; Tropicana Club at Paradise Beach, that is. Paradise Beach is the closest to our villa where snorkling gear can be rented, so we drove there in the late morning. Eric ended up buying some inexpensive gear for him and the kids because the rental would have been more expensive, and we decided that the beach wasn't too crowded yet. So we rented lounge chairs and umbrellas (permanently placed thatch umbrellas at the perfect height to gouge your eyes out if you walked into one) and set up camp for the afternoon.

After a couple of hours, the soft jazz on the club speakers was replaced with the boomba- boomba-boom rythmic music that teens and twenty-somethings seem to respond to, and the party gradually started. Paradise Beach is The Party Beach on Mykonos, and we decided not to stick around for the fun. We left just before our brains had been turned to oatmeal by the music, and returned to the serenity and isolation of Villa Cleo.

Eric, the kids and I went snorkeling a couple of times at Paradise. My experiences snorkeling in popular areas of Greece are that it is not very colorful, and is greatly impacted by people. But, I always feel at home in the water with my snorkeling gear on, and enjoy being once again with my fish relatives.

We had a good time in the water. Here are a few images:




The underwater landscape, with Neptune grass in the foreground and numerous Chromis fish in the wayer column. There are some low rocky reefs interspersed with the extensive sand flats.




Sophie, Eric and Max.




Max collecting a sample at about 15ft depth for the Museum of Sand.




A school of ?? fish.


The edge of the rock reef.


An urchin and numerous anemones.



- posted from the fisheyepad

ISLAND LIFE: SETTLING IN ON MYKONOS

I didn't sleep the last night in Amsterdam - well, maybe for about 30 minutes before the 4AM wake-up call came. I don't know; just couldn't get comfortable. Our 645AM flight to Athens on Transavia Airlines was uneventful, and we easily figured out the Athens Metro (light rail system) to the Acropolis station, and walked the 2 blocks to our hotel. We freshened up a bit, changed clothes, and went to breakfast (for us) at about 1PM. We asked for the bill, anxious to get to a nap, when the FriedFish walked in following their drive to Athens from Meteora. "OK, we'll linger a bit while you 4 eat;" and we did. That evening (after a long nap) we sat outdoors at a restaurant with the lighted Acropolis behind us. Not a bad way to ease into Greece.

Villa Cleo, Mykonos. We are across the bay from Mykonos town, so we can watch the rythmic arrival and departure of cruise ships, including the huge 4-master anchored off the old port. Mykonos is windy, and the first day was, we were told, windier than usual. Today (day 2) it is a gentler wind that keeps us somewhat cool. Eric and I did the shopping yesterday, trying to stock up for the week in order to avoid more shopping. It was grueling and expensive, but we survived the produce shop, supermarket, bakery and fish market. The only problem was that the refrigerator stopped working shortly after we loaded an expensive bunch of groceries into it! Phone calls to the villa concierge, a big cooler chest and bags of ice, and a bit of frantic activity got the perishables chilled, and a repairman was scheduled to come out today (Sunday) to fix it. This morning when I got up, the fridge was working fine! As per the repairman, the combination of high humidity, the large load we put in, and the poor design of European appliances (a Siemens) caused the coils to ice up, and the machine started working again once the ice melted because the fridge shut itself down.

So we are settling into the routine: wake up whenever we like, make Greek coffees, lounge around, jump into the pool (saltwater, but very pleasant), eat breakfast (today was a marvelous omelette by Max), go down to our "private beach," lounge around some more, jump into the pool, think about making lunch, and etcetera. It's about 3PM now, and a campari-soda was just delivered to me as I sit outside writing this post. I sure hope I can survive a week of this!

The internet here is very iffy. We seem to be connected, but a real connection to a server is intermittent. I'll put a few photos in here, hit "send," and hope that at some point, the post actually makes it to the blog.



Day 1 dinner: sauteed prawns, Greek salad, challah bread (well, that's what it looked like), white wine.



Villa Cleo, early morning.




Sherry on the patio



Villa Cleo, breakfast is ready. Typical white stucco plaster construction with arched doorways, open beam ceiling.




Life is a beach, and this is ours.




Petey Boy the monkey, getting his Fix on Mykonos.

Kalamera everyone!

- posted from the fisheyepad

A FEW DAYS IN AMSTERDAM, THE NETHERLANDS

The constant buzz about Amsterdam from "those in the know" in Portland is the bicycles. Ah yes, the bicycles; how refreshing to see a city that works by bike (if you don't get killed by one). There are so many refreshing things about Amsterdam bicycling. No lycra! No cyclists bent over racing handlebars moving like bats out of hell! The tinkling of bike bells when they come up behind you! Bike tires that are fat enough that they don't get caught in the tram tracks and cause injuries to cyclists. Bikes that don't cost thousands of dollars! Yep, Amsterdam commuting bikes are typically heavy beaters that are designed to be practical - imagine that! I do wonder about the injury rate, and the seriousness of such; after all, nobody wears a helmet, they careen down the streets and paths with a passanger sitting side-saddle on the back, they carry large and heavy objects, and we see a lot of them texting while riding (yikes!). But it all looks like it works, and so many people of all ages are riding bicycles.




Amsterdam is a canal city, with many miles of these waterways built in concentic circles around the city centrum. There are all manner of vessels on the canals of this city; however, the majority of those that are actually moving are the large tour boats that ply the canals. We'll do that tomorrow, although I am interested in the small elecrtric boats that can be rented.

Sex and drugs - where's the rock and roll? Red Light District - have not sought it out. But there are sex shops in some of the neighborhoods we've wandered through. And what is that faintly familiar smell when we walk past a coffee house? And why do I feel so good after walking past a few of them?







And did I mention culture? Is there a city with more museums than Amsterdam? We have already been to: the Rembrandt Huis (house), the Jewish Museum and Portugese Synagogue, the Ann Frank Huis, the Dutch Resistance Museum and the Rijksmuseum. In the Rijksmuseum (I think it is pronounced Reeks museum) I discovered that many of the painters in this country had either sinus infections or bad asthma - why else would they all be phlegmish? The paintings of Rembrandt, Vermeer and other Dutch Masters are well known, and we saw many beautiful pieces. It is interesting to follow the development of Rembrandt's style through the years of his career. Even more interesting was what we learned about his life in the house he had owned. He went bankrupt, could not keep up the payments on the very large house in Amsterdam, and it was reposessed, along with everything in it. Before carting everything away, however, there was a complete inventory made of the house contents. Who knew that Rembrandt was a collector of things. In one room of the house now there is a display of some of his collection, including sea turtle shells, butterflies, sea shells, African spears and masks, rocks and geodes, books on many subjects, and on and on.

Of Rembrandt's art, I spent more time looking closely at his etchings. Some are seemingly simple drawings; others much more complex. What impressed me was the detail of the line work, scratched into metal plates with an assortment of tools. Here are some examples in very close view, so you can see the line work:


magnified a bit...





The above "Man making water" is accompanied by another engraving "Woman making water." These seem to be very popular, as they are done as postcards, framed prints, refrigerator magnets and more in the Rembrandt House gift shop.

OK...I have internet for a bit, so I'll post this, and write more later.



- posted from the fisheyepad

THINGS I SAW FROM THE AIRPLANE

August 4-5, 2012, in the atmosphere of Planet Earth.
---Columbia River at Government Island -- hundreds of boats; tents and chairs on the beaches. The Mighty Columbia flowing north between Oregon and Washington, then curving west towards the Pacific.
-- South Puget Sound -- intensely blue, awash against beaches and bluffs with houses and streets and Pacific Northwest green, green trees.
-- the Cascade Mountains -- the foothills, shaved clean for lumber, marching esat towards the snowy heights; cone-shaped volcanic forms with a patchwork quilt of snow, trees, clear-cuts and valleys;
-- the flat intermountain west -- with long basins of water breaking the monotony;
-- the Rocky Mountains -- knife-sharp, angular ridges shoved up from the ground and slanting to the west, casting long black shadows running from the sun;
-- brown air hanging over the world like a sickly and shabby worn wool blanket;
-- the starkness of the blue sky above the brown air;
-- the Canadian shield of Manitoba, pock-marked with uncountable potholes of glacial lakes stretching away under the wing;
-- the small, pale, not-exactly-round disk of moon struggling to ascend through the brown murk holding it under, as if trying to breathe while being held under turbid water; finally breaking free to soar large, bright and white over hugh mountains of white clouds;
-- the darkness settling over the world as we run from the sun, flying a great northern route across the Atlantic to Europe.





- posted from the fisheyepad

Location:the atmosphere of Planet Earth

THE PLAY'S THE THING...

...that takes us to Ashland, Oregon for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival at least twice every year. This year we've purchased tickets for every production - all 12.  We just returned home from a long weekend during which we saw 4 productions; what a good time!

The 300 mile drive down Interstate 5 (I-5) from Portland to Ashland typically takes us 4-1/2 hours. Some people we know think it's a boring ride, but we beg to differ. The drive south up the Willamette Valley between Portland and Eugene, especially during this time of year, is mostly emerald green pastures, many with sheep and new lambs, areas of standing water, red-tailed hawks sitting on fence posts and poles watching for mice, and patches of scrubby woodland. The valley towns are clearly separated from these agricultural lands, thanks to the Oregon land use laws that prohibit urban sprawl. On a clear day, the valley is framed on both sides by the Coast Range and Cascade Mountains.

South of Eugene the highway leaves the valley and enters the foothills of the western Cascade Mountains, running through hills and valleys. After the city of Roseburg, we climb into the ancient Klamath Mountains, traversing a few passes each at about 2,000 feet elevation. The road cut shows beautiful displays of old rocks, some from an ancient sea floor, others more recent volcanic flows or sediments. We finally enter a high plateau where Medford and then Ashland come into view.

OSF Elizabethan Theater from the Lithia Park lower duck pond

The Oregon Shakespeare Festival was founded in 1935. They now produce a lot more than the plays by William Shakespeare, but the works of the Bard remain the cornerstone of every season.  We were privileged to be members of the audience for four productions during opening week.

Animal Crackers is a stage production of the Marx Brothers movie of the same title. Groucho was there, we think being channeled by an actor who was obviously having as much fun as the rest of us. His ad libs, especially when he caught other actors flubbing (we saw a final preview), were spot on and hilarious. Add to this Chico and Harpo, and a throng of silly wealthy folks (the 1%?), and it's a laugh a minute. This is a production that, in addition to having historic value, is guaranteed to make your smile and laugh muscles ache for days.

How about some Chekhov? The OSF production of Seagull is excellent. Oh, what miserable people inhabit this play! Why can't these characters see themselves and change their expectations and behaviors? They are so self-absorbed in their own brands of misery that they fail to see the needs of those around them. Not a pretty picture of humanity, but a compelling production to see.

The White Snake is an old Chinese fable brilliantly re-told on the OSF stage. I would see this production again just for the staging; the set, lighting, costuming, props and sound are magical, which makes sense because the story is about magic. The directing and acting bring this old story to new life, and although it is set in an earlier time, the messages are very relevant today. A very old and magical white snake decides to visit the world of humans and transforms herself (and her servant the green snake) into human form. She meets, falls in love with, and marries a man. A powerful priest, himself a man of magic, gets wise to her transformation and vows to destroy her. At one point the priest says, basically, that marriage cannot be between one man and one snake - now where have I heard a line like that before? This is a magical production; don't miss it.

And then there is Master Shakespeare. I can't say how many times I've seen a production of Romeo and Juliet; and I must admit to a bit of trepidation that I would be sitting through yet another one.  But true to form, OSF rarely disappoints, it grabbed and held me for almost three hours! The play is set in 1840's Alta California following the victorious grab by the United States of territories belonging to Mexico. US flags and soldiers mix with Spanish-Mexican ranching culture as the simmering conflict between two great families grinds up their young. The star-crossed lovers are, well, young and naive; but love is love, and teenage love is something else altogether. The two lovers are very believable characters who keep us focused on the simple question that the adults can't seem to comprehend, while all around them the adults and testosterone-filled boys wound and kill each other with words, gestures and sharp objects. Old Will certainly wrote a timeless tale, and OSF tells it brilliantly.

And so we're back home in Portland, with many memories of time and place and people imagined. For us, Ashland is a kind of home away from home. It's a small, friendly and very beautiful town that is perfect for walking, enjoying a variety of restaurants, browsing shops and galleries filled with interesting things, and just being. One of our favorite places to walk, sit, watch and listen is Lithia Park, through which Ashland Creek flows. We've spent many hours in this beautiful park, and never tire of it. (I've posted some photos from the park on my photo site.) Add to that the magic of live theater and, well, life is good!

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