One experience I had hoped to have while in Turkey was to visit a simple mosque during a prayer service. You can visit the large well known mosques in Istanbul and you may see a few people praying but visitors are not usually admitted during group services.
I have become very friendly with Faruk the owner of the pension we are saying in and today screwed up my courage and asked if he would take me to his mosque when he went for evening prayers. Much to my delight he was not only willing but enthusiastic about sharing this experience with me and assured me that the other men would also welcome me as a visitor.
Faruk, Dave, & BethAfter dinner we hopped on his motor-bike and rode across town to the local mosque. After performing his ritual cleansing we removed our shoes and entered the mosque where the service was in progress. About 40 men of various ages and styles of dress were in the room which was simple and spare. The Imam sat at the head of the room and an a second leader sat towards the rear chanting prayers out loud. The other men in the room moved through the prayer ritual at various paces. It was simple and peaceful and in some ways reminded me of prayers in a Jewish synagogue.
After the service was over, Faruk took me to meet the Imam and several other members of the mosque. They were very friendly and welcomed me to ask any questions. We talked for a while and then everyone dispersed outside and back into the square.
Faruk then invited me to "come have tea or coffee like Turkish men do". We proceeded across the square to some tables outside a simple restaurant. Other men sat in groups. Some of them looked like they had been sitting there for 100 years - the faces were fascinating. Shortly an old man appeared with tea. We sat and talked for awhile about religion, free will, tolerance, what Islam meant to Faruk, his struggles to raise his children in his faith, and religious extremism. He quoted the Koran and I quoted Thomas Jefferson. It was a wonderful, free, and warm exchange of ideas.
After several cups of tea we hopped back on the motor-bike. I thought we were heading home but Faruk had other plans. First we stopped at the shop of one of his friends where he insisted on giving me a copy of the Koran in English.
Next, he said, "I want to take you on a small tour of my town". We had talked before at length about his family and life here in Goreme so it was great to ride around and have him point out different landmarks. He showed me the house his grandfather had built and that he was born in almost 40 years ago.
Finally he took me on a wild ride up side streets and then onto a rocky path. I held on to him as the path led steeply upwards into the dark. I remember thinking I could die or be injured but at least my obituary would be interesting: "Local man dies in motorbike accident in the hills of central Turkey". Then I remembered that Faruk had been riding these hills since he was a boy and knew every turn and bump.
Eventually we topped a ridge and we were at the highest point for many miles around. The entire region was laid out before us. You could see 4 or 5 villages scattered through the hills and mountains - truly spectacular. After soaking this in for a while and talking some more we hopped back on his bike for the wild and scary ride down the mountain. But not before Faruk said, "Hold tight. Don't afraid. I do all the time."
Soon we were back in the main square and then back to the pension.
What a night! What an experience!
Location:Goreme, Cappadocia, Turkey
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