Kapadokya (Cappadocia)

For a while, I could not wrap my head around what Kapadokya was. It seemed that I had heard of it even while in the States, but it didn't register anything familiar. When I decided to go to the city of Kapadokya, I realized how I probably heard of it before--it is one of the most famous cities in Turkey. In Farsi, Kapadokya means "land of beautiful houses." 

The trip started off with a quick stop at the Tuz Gulu, or Salt Lake (left). It was the first time I had ever seen a Salt Lake, so before I went there, I was stupidly expecting a large lake that was salty in taste. I was so wrong. Instead, it was like a vast field of sand grains--edible sand grains. Of all the palettes on my tongue, salt is the one I savor the most. There is nothing that adds flavor to food as salt does. Salt provokes thirst and salt provokes sweetness. I was walking on salt, looking around to only the pure whiteness of salt, and I was just bathing in its flavorful wonder.

I saw some ostriches near the Salt Lake, too. Since I am not a big fan of going to the zoo, I could not recall whether it was my first time seeing an ostrich or not. Either way, upon seeing the ostriches, I could not contain my excitement. They were from the wild, and they were staring through the fence right at me. I felt like a kid again. 

Next, we visited the first round of old, abandoned castles. The word "castle" does not quite justify these mountainous dwellings, since they have been worn down from the effects of time and harsh weather. The tops of each point are rounded, pointing to the sky as some ominous direction. From afar, the little holes on the mountains give the false illusion of a porous sponge, that even a small touch of the mountain would deem it to be soft and malleable. This impression was dumbfounded when I actually attempted to climb atop!

I found small dwellings that were once occupied by people living in small towns. There were remnants of old fireplaces, ashes scattered everywhere as if they had just left to grab some sugar from a neighbor. I felt like I understood their way of living, and I began to imagine what types of rugs, candles, and food would be placed in the tiny cubbies formed in the interior. I played along with my imagination to envision families gathering for dinner. I could not believe I was one with some ancient peoples. Only nature could preserve such an opportunity.

It was still early into the morning when we stopped at the mountain preserves. The entire landscape was just a gigantic cliff large enough to house a waterfall; it stared back at you as if to prompt and dare you to jump. I loved the feeling, especially since I am deathly afraid of heights. Clearly, I tested this phobia with victory!

It seemed as if there were an infinite number of stairs to descend before reaching the bottom, where a beautiful stream ran through and separated the cliff from enjoining its partner. I visited some of the old churches built inside the mountains, which were caged off as if they were small caves. Quite the contrary, they were pretty large and had some paints still in place. However, I still enjoyed the naturistic scenery more because it was not only impressive in its grandeur, but also because I do not see such sights very often, coming from an entirely metropolitan city. It began to rain, and it was our queue to leave.

We arrived at the famous Underground city moments later. I could not begin to fathom how people survived in an underground city, but once again, my understanding was mistaken. It was an underground city only for emergencies; it was not a permanent site for living. Did I mention that I am claustrophobic? I felt caged in as I carefully stepped down each step, deeper and deeper, narrower and narrower! At one point, it became so narrow that some people had to turn sideways just to go through.

It was a good experience, and I recalled a similar experience from when I had visited the Mammoth Caves in Kentucky, United States. In particular, I remember a sign warning visitors that there were some parts so narrow, you would become submerged between the rocks. If ever there was a feeling for becoming "one" with nature, it was then!

We arrived at our hotel in Kapadokya. Again, the word "hotel" does not justify this place of interest. It was more of an experience than it was a hotel. There was no hot water. It was raining the entire weekend, from the moment we were on the bus. The bathroom was half outdoors and half indoors. It was refreshing, though admittedly, that I had to awaken to the cold slap of water while washing my face, surrounded by the rain encircling my bedroom.

After a quick nap full of shivering and restlessness, it was time to have the true Anatolian experience--entertainment and all. Before dinner began, there was a Sufi dancing portion. I was so engulfed in the spirituality of the dancers spiraling in such tranquility that it brought me to tears. It was a whole-body experience for them: hearing the hymns, twisting their feet, closing their eyes, lifting their arms as if gliding through the air. I yearned to join them, envious of their solace. 

After the Sufi dance portion, there was a very lively Turkish dancing portion. The costumes looked very authentic, with elaborate designs sewn on both mens' and womens' wardrobe. With each move, the dancers exuded an unbounded energy that simply lifted spirits throughout the room--mine included. I watched them in awe, from one act to the next, it was a flawless display of their rich culture intertwined with the stories being told subtly through the dance moves. In particular, from the first dance onwards, there was a progression of the story of a woman's marriage proposal. Here is a glimpse of how it played out:

The next morning, we went on another visit to the mountain castles. The view was simply breathtaking and the sky looked surreal. I was thankful that the rain finally ceased to pour; the landscape looked incredibly fresh and the colors of the mountains were very vivid against the backsplash of the blue skies.

I climbed yet another mountain. I was proud of myself because I contradicted my overly-cautious nature.

The next part of this Kapadokya trip was my favorite. It is a memory I will forever cherish. We went to a pottery-making shop, which seemed to be common to the city. Of course it was--Kapadokya was famous for pottery and the actual pottery shop which we visited was owned by a family through a line of generations. As we followed our guided tour through the shop, I watched artists meticulously craft their pots and plates with paints. I saw the entire process from stage one--the bare, colorless molds to the glazed, glass-like creations on display. There were so many beautiful colors and patterns, and I was tempted to spend the rest of the day there.

The artist in me was appeased. I finally got my chance to create pottery of my own! It was so enthralling and I was the lucky one from the whole group with such an opportunity. First, I watched the craftsman perform the pot-making process. It involved much enthusiasm; while I watched his legs kick the base, I questioned my own ability to match such speed and precision. It all went well, though, because I made a bowl good enough to be displayed at a second grader's art fair!

After the exciting pottery making, we headed to the famous Open Air Museum of Kapadokya. This was one of the best preserved mountain houses in Kapadokya, which included churches as well. It was much the same as the others we had visited, and it was the third city we visited.

The food I ate in Kapadokya cannot be matched, however. We were served the typical appetizers of yogurt and chi kofte (meatless meatballs), but the main course was truly impressive. We were each served an individual clay pot's worth of food (as you can observe to the right, the waiter is requesting the chef to pour the food into the bowls). The dish was a mixture of lamb and eggplant. It was warm and there were two different textures--the ease of an eggplant juxtaposing the difficulty of the lamb--in terms of chewing. Although I had always despised eggplant, I could not believe how much I savored the dish. It was amazing, and I don't know where I can ever find something like that again. It's one of those tastes that you know you will never forget.

We went to the "Imagination Desert" afterwards. As you can see, the first thing I noticed was the camel. There were many rock formations in this area. I was astounded at the wonders of nature, and once again, I climbed up the hills.

Afterwards, we visited one final destination with more rock formations. These were a bit different, though, since they looked like pillars with tiny rocks balancing on the top of their point. It was here that I took a short ride on a camel. The came had quite the personality! It was beautiful, so I mistakenly interpreted and assumed that it would also be gentle. It was the complete opposite! At just a foot away from the camel, it was poking at me and almost shooing me away like a fly! I could not understand whether I was offended or whether it was just a camel thing. All I knew was that it was hilarious, and the people watching must have had a show. Taking a picture with it seemed nearly impossible, since I was scared it would bite me!