Michael in Turkey

Tonight two Turkish men showed up at my door. They were dressed up, but from the shabiness of their clothing, and the five o-clock shadows that some Turks must start showing at noon, I could tell they were not from one of the higher classes (more on class systems another blog). What made them stand out, however, was that one had a laundry basket-sized drum strapped to his hip. They were asking for money, as payment for their Ramazan duties as drummers. Why drummers, you ask. Simple. During the month of Ramazan (or Ramadan), true Muslims fast during the daylight hours. People are notoriously cranky right before sunset, as their hunger wears on them. The drummers want to make sure you at least have a decent chance to make it through the day (and they obviously don't mind making some money), so they walk around the neighborhood drumming in the early hours before sunrise, waking all to make sure you have time for a good early breakfast.

My fellow teachers estimate that roughly 10% of our students are fasting for the month. For a country that's 99% or so Muslim, I am constantly forgetting I'm in a country that practices a religion that, for most Americans, is very foreign, and even threatening. In one brief month, I have gotten used to the call of the Esan, the old men with takkes (fine tight-knit caps), the women with headscarves, the occasional begger blessing passer-bys. But the one aspect of the Islamic religion I was well aware of was the mosque. Could I see inside one? Was that wrong? I pass within 15 yards of the door of my local mosque every day, yet always felt as if it were taboo to even walk into the little courtyard in front of the building.

Well, today I went into my first mosque, the Kocatepe Camii, one of the largest in the world. Mara and I were shopping downtown with a co-worker, Asli, and as we parked nearby, I asked about seeing the inside of one. She said there would be no problem going inside. Since this mosque is so large, many tourists seek it out (though there were only about 15 people in the entire mosque when we went in), so I didn't feel intimidated.

Once I got to the entrance, however, I did feel somewhat in awe. The ceiling is spectacularly vaulted, with colorful mosaics made of tile and paint. The entire place is carpeted, and one must remove your shoes before entering. Inside there is a large open area for prayer, five times a day. The second floor is for women (men and women don't normally pray side by side). I couldn't imagine it ever filling up, but Asli said that on most Fridays there is a crowd pushing right outside the door. If you look at the picture with Mara and me, you can see a narrow stairway, which I think points toward Mecca in every mosque. I also think it's where the Iman stands.

We didn't stay long, and I kept asking if it was ok to take pictures (I don't know why; I wouldn't think twice if someone entered a Catholic church to take pictures during the day). I think it's because I don't have a firm grasp of the religion. However, sometime soon I'm going to respectfully visit my neighborhood mosque.