All of us were looking forward to an early morning hot air balloon ride in Cappadocia. Unfortunately, the weather didn’t cooperate. According to the balloon operators, it was too windy. I was slightly disappointed. However, there was plenty to keep us busy.
Right after breakfast, we drove 30-40 minutes to the village of Çat (population 2100) for our Day in the Life experience. On our way to the village, we passed through the streets of Nevşehir, one of Cappadocia’s larger cities, where we noticed many new apartment buildings. Ulaş told us that many people who can no longer afford the housing costs in Istanbul have resettled here. A large, modern three-bedroom apartment in Nevşehir would cost about $50,000, which is considerably less than in Istanbul.
When we arrived in Çat, Ulaş led us on a walking tour from the center of the village. Many of the buildings looked fairly new and others seemed to be under construction but we also passed by several buildings that were abandoned. Until the 1950s, the majority of Turkey’s population lived in rural areas. Nowadays, only about 20% of the population lives in farming villages like Çat.
I was surprised that on our walk around the village, we didn’t see very many people. Ulaş explained that most of them were busy with the grape harvest. We did, however, see a couple of older women who were sweeping in front of their homes. They joked with Ulaş but were a little shy about posing for photos. When we asked about the women’s head coverings, Ulaş said it was just traditional attire and had no religious significance.
As we walked towards the outskirts of the village, we passed many beautiful larger homes with carefully tended gardens. In fact, as we were looking over a wall and admiring one garden, the homeowner came out and indicated that we should open the gate. She welcomed us into the garden and pointed out the gourds she had painted for decoration.
Then we continued walking until the area of homes gave way to the fields set into the strange landscape.
Turning back towards the center of the village, we came to one of the village’s five mosques. Ulaş ushered us inside, emphasizing that anyone, of any religion, is allowed to enter a mosque. Compared to the elaborately decorated mosques we’d seen in Istanbul, this mosque was quite simple.
Do many villagers come to the mosque to pray on Fridays, we asked. Only 5% of the local residents attend on a weekly basis, Ulaş told us. And he reminded us that the prayers are in Arabic, which few of the people understand. We also learned that only about 40% of the villagers observe Ramadan.
As a member of a religious minority, I was very curious as to whether religious instruction is provided in public schools. Ulaş answered that two hours a week of religious instruction is compulsory for Muslim students. However, parents can opt their children out. And students who are not Muslim are not required to attend.
He also informed us about Turkey’s Alawite population. While 90% of Turkey’s Muslims are Sunni, about 20 million Alawite Muslims live in the country’s southernmost province, bordering Syria. Alawites are followers of Ali, the fourth Caliph. They don’t accept the rules imposed by Osman, the scribe who compiled the written Quran shortly after the death of Mohamed. The Alawite branch has its own mosques, where men and women pray together (unlike in Sunni mosques). They also have their own rules. For example, women don’t wear head coverings. Alawites tend to be much more secular than other branches of Islam. For many centuries, the Alawites in Turkey were persecuted by the majority Sunni Muslims.
Shortly before noon, we stopped at a coffeehouse in the main square for refreshments and restrooms. This where the older men of the village congregate and spend most of the day. They were all smoking cigarettes, which they rolled themselves. One gentleman even offered us hand-rolled cigarettes, which we all politely declined.
We didn’t linger after drinking our coffee and tea, as we were expected shortly at a farm just outside the village for a home hosted lunch. But as we walked to our bus, we came across a group of village women making pekmez, the grape molasses that, mixed with tahini, I’d been enjoying on my bread at breakfast since Istanbul. Of course, we made an impromptu stop to observe the process of boiling, skimming, straining, etc. The women also offered us a taste of the chewy candy they made from the pekmez. Its sweetness comes only from the natural sugar of the fruit.
Finally, it was time to head out to the farm. It’s the property of Çat’s assistant mayor and his wife who also have a house in the village. At this time of year, they spend most of their time at the house in the fields. They have 13 hectares (about 32 acres) of land where they grow wheat and pumpkins. They also have a vegetable garden. Right away, I could understand why they prefer to stay here. It was an incredibly idyllic setting.
I noticed an older family member seated under a shelter, rolling out dough. Once she rolled out the dough, she spread some melted butter in the center, sprinkled it with cooked ground meat and crumbled cheese, and folded the sides of the dough over the filling. The filled dough was taken out to be cooked over an open fire. Within minutes, we had our first taste of gözleme. These traditional stuffed flatbreads can be made with a variety of savory fillings. I definitely need to learn how to make gözleme!
The weather was ideal for al fresco dining. The gözleme were just one of the appetizers. There were also grape leaves rolled around a vegetable filling, a tomato and onion salad, and two types of melon. Next came manti, the Turkish stuffed dumplings topped with yogurt and a tomato-based sauce. We finished off the meal with coffee or tea and roasted pumpkin seeds.
I could have sat on that lovely, shady patio all afternoon, gazing out at the bucolic landscape.
After we learned about the steps involved in creating the beautiful surface decorations, we looked at the display of stunning ceramic pieces in the showroom.
I wasn’t in the market for a wine jug or a platter or anything large – but since I had been admiring Turkish tiles ever since my first day in Istanbul, I focused on getting a framed tile to hang as a decorative piece in my new home. The one I picked out is an Iznik tile, named for the city in central Anatolia where they were first produced in the late 15thcentury. I learned that these are the highest quality tiles made in Turkey, and consequently, they’re the most expensive. The tiles that decorate the Blue Mosque and the Rustem Paça Mosque in Istanbul are Iznik tiles.
Iznik pottery is a type of fritware, i.e. it’s made of clay combined with quartz sand and finely ground glass. The rich blue color comes from cobalt and the vibrant turquoise color comes from copper oxide. A transparent glaze containing lead, silica, and tin gives the tiles their special luster. I debated about spending the money, as the cost seemed excessive at first, but I’m glad I eventually decided to purchase this tile (which measures 20x20 cm, or approximately 8x8 inches) as a souvenir of my trip.
But in the meantime, I was excited to be heading south to Turkey’s fabled Turquoise Coast.
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