Friday began much like any other day I’ve had in Turkey thus far but it ended in something far different.
Ever walk into a place and immediately wonder what reality you just stepped into? Yeah.
Anyway, so Friday we met at our medresse for class discussion on Ataturk, the downfall of the Ottoman Empire and the rise of the Republic of Turkey. Ataturk was really a sort of a benevolent dictator in creating the new Republic, but he was exactly what Turkey needed in order to survive as a nation-state.
After discussing these topics for over an hour, we took a quick break to grab some lunch and then it was time to meet Hande for a Turkish-language lesson. Once we finished, it was a little bit after 1:30 p.m. and it was time for me to say my goodbyes to the group.
You see, for the weekend, I was visiting a Turkish family who were friends of my father’s…all the way in Izmir.
Izmir, a large city along the coast of the Aegean Sea, is about a six hour drive from Istanbul on a good day and not really accounting for Istanbul traffic. So normally a weekend trip to Izmir would be considered a little much, especially for being without a car. This was not the case because the Gurels insisted on flying me to visit them for the weekend.
So I caught the tram at Sultanahmet, rode till it reached the end of its line, and then spent a scary moment trying to figure out where exactly the metro I needed to take to the airport was. Luckily, I found the metro with some gesturing to the some of the attendants at the busy stop.
I had no problem getting to my gate; except when passing through security, the guard wanted me to turn on my laptop. I didn’t know what he wanted at first, but I eventually worked it out. I guess he wanted to make sure I didn’t have drugs stuffed inside of it or that it wasn’t a bomb or anything…though that still doesn’t make much sense.
It was a short flight to Izmir. I believe we were in the air for all of an hour and then we landed with no problems.
Walking out of the Izmir airport, I found Mrs. Gurel’s driver waiting for me with a sign. He took my bags and led me to the sleek black luxury car waiting just outside the door. He opened the back door for me and I slid inside. The front passenger seat was pulled all the way up and missing its headrest, so I already knew this was how Mrs. Gurel rode most of the time. …Alright, alright…I was definitely already impressed.
Next thing I know, the driver has us cruising along the highway and as we round a corner, Izmir opens up in front of us.
Izmir is a different sort of beautiful than Istanbul. It’s surrounded by mountains and built into the bay area, so no matter where you look, you get a shot of mountain or of sea with the city in between. Where Istanbul is covered with relics, monuments, and buildings of old among its concrete apartment blocks and businesses, Izmir is, except for the oldest of city walls and a few leftover 19th century Ottoman houses, modern and unmarked by history. I asked Mrs. Gurel about this later and she gave me a very simple answer.
“Because the Sultan takes from Anatolia, and only gives to Istanbul or Europe.”
As she explained, the imperial Ottomans’ focus was in its capital or in its European area. Sure, Izmir may have a few of its old mosques, but nothing on the scale of Sultanahmet or Suleymanii. During the Ottoman Empire, Izmir was a prosperous seaport and very rich. However, as I discussed with Mrs. Gurel, its wealth has changed as the state has changed with nothing to leave behind. Now it’s found in its sleek high-rises and apartments lining the sea. Though later, when Mrs. Gurel took me into the massive bazaar, I still found some of the wealth of history lying in its cobblestone streets and old stone structures with curved ceilings.
Anyway, the driver took us just outside the main city, passing some tangerine groves, and took a turn down a narrow lane. We cruised through a gate and I first notice the house just on the right – the gardener, security, and driver’s quarters. The driver pulls up to the main house, and before I know it, I’m being embraced by Mrs. Gurel.
She kisses me on both cheeks and ushers me inside. We pass through the entrance, foyer style room and we enter the massive living room. I swear I thought I was in a palace.
The living room is two stories high and the ceiling decorated not all that differently from some of the Topkapi palace ceilings. Covering the wood floor were four massive silk carpets and two kilims (Thanks Hasan!). There were beautiful wood coffee and side tables in laid with the mother-of-pearl decoration I’ve grown to love as I sign of Turkish luxury. There are four separate sittings areas with plush chairs and loveseats and massive windows that look out into a perfectly sculpted backyard.
I register at least three maids standing to the side as Mrs. Gurel leads me to one of the many seats. I don’t ever remember asking for it, but somehow a maid appears with a glass of diet coke with a lemon sliced inside. Mrs. Gurel and I carry on a great conversation for some minutes. She asks me all about what I’m doing in Turkey and how my stay has been thus far. She told me she’s been worried sick all day about me traveling to Izmir and that she stayed home just in case I had to call. I told her about my living situation in Istanbul and she immediately offered to get me a hotel or an apartment if I was uncomfortable. I was tempted to tell her how horrible all my roommates are and to please rescue me.
Just kidding. BTW, don’t you hate how there’s no comfortable way to denote sarcasm in type?
She found the fact that we lived above a bunch of electrician shops to be amusing after some initial reservation, though we were both definitely in agreement about the flights of stairs we have to climb. Anyway, a while later, Mr. Gurel arrived home and after some more chatting she showed me to my spacious guestroom and gave me some time to rest. I was to come out whenever I was comfortable as we would be having a small dinner party with one other couple. Feeling the pressure to look at least some what decent, I freshened up and emerged from my room an hour later.
The husband of this couple was also an old acquaintance of my father’s and we had pleasant conversation sitting on the patio with appetizers. They also served champagne. Now, the only champagne I’ve ever had, it wasn’t very good and that’s the way I generally think of champagne. But this, this was possibly the best drink I’ve ever had. Much to my shame, I drank two glasses worth though I didn’t refill it myself – another one of those magical moments.
We then sat down for supper in a gorgeously decorated dining room. We were served by the maid staff; I think there are four of them. The first course was a salad, the second was a type of beetroot cake that was surprisingly delicious, followed by beef and rice, and finally meringue and chilled pear for desert. Of course, along with this supper we had first white wine, and then spice wine. Then with desert we had ice wine. Finally, we had a sweet desert liquor as Mrs. Gurel led us to settle into a section living room.
Now I know you’re all thinking, “wait, two glasses of champagne, two glasses of wine, ice wine, and then desert liquor…Emily’s a lightweight…this isn’t going to end well.” Well, to all my doubters out there, I was perfectly fine. And, of course, just very, very content.
After swapping some stories and some intellectual conversation, it was time to settle into bed. I basically passed out as soon as the door to my guest suite was closed.
I woke up the next morning to the phone intercom ringing beside me. I croaked a “hello” into it and was welcomed back into the world by Mrs. Gurel’s voice. She asked me if I was ready to get up and after learning it was 10:30 Saturday morning, I assured her that yes, I was. After making sure I was halfway decent, I met Mr. and Mrs. Gurel in the breakfast room for, you guessed it, breakfast.
After a light breakfast (that included the best orange juice I've ever had), Mr. Gurel left for work and Mrs. Gurel ushered me back into my room to finish getting ready. Thirty minutes later, we were off. With the driver taking us around of course.
Mrs. Gurel first took me to the top of one of the surrounding mountains so I could survey the city and she could point at the details. After that, we went to an ethnographic museum so Mrs. Gurel could walk me through the history of Izmir as a prosperous seaport. Then it was to the large bazaar where we left the driver behind. We both had a lot of fun navigating the narrow streets. After a while we entered the stretch of the bazaar where all the nice small jewelry stores were located. First we visited her favorite antique jewelry shop where she dropped I don’t know how much on an emerald ring and an opal and pearl broach with small jewels decorating it. Then we went a few stores down into a new jewelry store. I take a seat and the owner brings me a glass of lemonade.
Before I know it, I walk out the door with a gold bracelet is on my wrist with three of the famous Turkish evil eyes decorating it.
All this business was conducted in Turkish so I had no idea what was happening until they fastened the bracelet around my wrist to check the size and then whisk it away to take out a few links. At this point, I finally realized what was going on and insisted that she did not have to do such a thing for me.
Mrs. Gurel insisted though, saying “I bought something for me, now let me buy something for you.”
I was speechless walking out the door as she led me to our lunch restaurant in another corner of the bazaar. Figuratively, it was lunch. In reality, it was about 3:30 p.m. But I guess when you have breakfast at 10:30; lunch comes at later time as well.
After a delicious lunch we left for a driving tour of the city. In the process of driving around the coast of the bay, we passed by the building where Mr. Gurel was working for the day. One thing, Izmir has a pretty low skyline much like Istanbul. For another thing, this tower, well, towered over the surrounding buildings and was definitely very new. As if, you know, I hadn’t been clued in already, I finally realized the Gurels were the “ish” in Izmir. The name above the revolving doors read “Gurel Tower Residence.”
Oh. Ooookay.
After some more time spent traversing the city, we headed back to the Gurels' home. Once there, I received the official tour of the house. It’s large, but it’s not huge. However, everything was decorated most tastefully with marble floors, mother-of-pearl furniture, and oil paintings. And also, they had the best technology as well, including an elevator. I saw their individual studies on the top floor where Mrs. Gurel let me browse through their English-language books for anything to help with my research in Turkey and I was handed a thick book on Ataturk by Patrick Kinross to keep. I did not see the floor that held their bedroom, but I was taken to the basement where they kept a movie theater, fully stocked bar, and a game room; oh, and the exercise room and Jacuzzi.
I shared some more stories of home and our adventures in Turkey thus far and then I was ushered to my room to get ready for the evening. Good thing I brought a dress and heels.
We left at 7:30. The driver took us in another luxury vehicle; Mr. Gurel sat in the front while Mrs. Gurel and I stuck to the back. We arrived at the main Izmir horse-racing venue by 8:00 p.m. We were escorted at the door up to the prime seats right at the finish line. Basically the kind of seats you see the important people sitting in during the Kentucky Derby. All around us were owners of the horses and the people heavily involved in racing as well as special guests, such as the Gurels. And their little American student that tagged along and melted into the background. I think I perfected that this weekend.
The Gurel’s were new to horse-racing and to the track, but they both quite enjoyed themselves. I did as well. There was so much going on, as well as lively conversation, and the winners were brought up into our area to be awarded their trophy. We were served immediately for everything by the wait staff.
Mrs. Gurel at the entrance told them that she did not want to take interviews. For circulating the people in the top box was a news anchor and few other press members, but around me, they caught other people into getting interviews.
While watching, we placed bets on horses during the different races (I think there were seven races). One of our choices actually won! That was exciting, and between races they had a live band perform. While we were there, Mrs. Gurel decided she wanted to buy a horse and it would be my job to name it.
That was another "Oh. Oooookay" moment.
When Mrs. Gurel got warm from all the people and lights, they opened up another room for her to sit in A/C. At that point, I was introduced to one of the mayors of Izmir and his wife as they walked into the room.
Okay, let’s take another moment here to reflect on my situation. 1) The best seats in the house, closed off from the masses. 2) food and drink a plenty 3) the mayor 4) press 5) important people. Exhibit A: Way out of place American student.
At least I looked halfway decent.
We made it back to the house at about 11:30. Mr. Gurel offered to set up a film for me downstairs, but I was exhausted so I voted for bed.
Sunday morning, Mrs. Gurel woke me up at 9:30. After packing my belongings and getting ready in a rush, we were out the door by 10:15. The driver took us to a restaurant for brunch/breakfast where I met her youngest son and his wife. He spoke perfect English and finished law school in 2 ½ years. The couple then took me on a tour of a quaint town of Cesme (pronounced Cheshmeh). Izmir is built on a bay were the Aegean curves inland for a ways. It took us about 30 minutes of driving to arrive to the point where Cesme was located and another ten minutes along with the summer playground for the elite of Izmir on the coast of the Aegean Sea.
We parted from her son and daughter-in-law and Mrs. Gurel had the driver take us to her summer home. We pulled deeper into the neighborhood and then a small villa opened up with small trees dotting the front yard. I was led inside where Mr. Gurel was waiting and received a brief tour of their very nice and cozy villa. And when I say small, I mean like, a normal size living room, dining room, kitchen, and master bedroom on the main floor, three bedrooms on the second floor, and at least one bedroom in the bottom story.
This was the first weekend of the summer and so everyone was just now beginning to open their summer houses. So while they supervised the maid as she got out linens and towels, they sent me into a room to change into my borrowed swimsuit. They also gave me SPF 6 sunscreen. You know, SPF 6. Perfect for a girl with skin white enough to reflect the sun (thanks dad!).
I slathered on as much sunscreen as I could and then met the Gurels downstairs. They took me outside and showed me their immaculate backyard with their saltwater pool. Then I was led down the stone steps and met the Aegean Sea face to face. I jumped in for my first taste of Mediterranean waters. It was warm and Caribbean clear blue/green. Utterly fantastic. I swam around their pier for about thirty minutes. Climbing out when I got tired and snapping pictures of the sailboats in the distance.
There was a sandy beach a ways away where a lot of people were gathered to enjoy the first day of the summer season (June 1).
I left after a while, feeling the sun burn into my skin, and knew I would be a nice tomato red the next day. I took a brief dip in their pool and then Mrs. Gurel told me I would need to get out so that we could grab something to eat before it was time for me to leave for my plane.
Mr. Gurel drove us in his Jaguar. Um…lets just say that he belongs on a racetrack. We enjoyed a nice lunch (again, the lunch term is relative, it was about 3:00 p.m.) on a small pier. Then we headed back to their seaside villa so I could get my belongings before heading to the airport.
I said my goodbyes to the Gurels there, thanking them over and over again for the weekend they gave me. Mrs. Gurel was already making plans to meet me and the rest of the students when we traveled to Ephesus and take us out to dinner. As we left, she threw a cup of water out to as a Turkish tradition to make sure I went away smoothly and would come back (or something like that).
We arrived at the airport with thirty minutes to spare for my flight, the driver accompanying me inside, carrying my bags. It was smooth flight back to Istanbul and I got the shuttle that led to Taksim Square at the far end of Istiklal. I then hiked backed to our flat in record time considering the duffle and backpack I was carrying in order to catch the phone call Mrs. Gurel made to make sure I arrived safely.
All the others were back from their weekend adventures. And after I collpased on the floor, we began to share our stories. In the words of Amanda, “Emily was pampered, while the rest of needed pampers.”
To decipher this phrase, please go read the adventures of those who went to Bursa. It’s worth your time, seriously.
I’m still in denial about my weekend; it was an amazing experience and I was literally treated like a princess the whole time. It’s interesting to compare the lifestyle I experienced this past weekend with what I’ve seen thus far and what I suspect I’ll see when we leave Istanbul in a couple of weeks.
Mr. and Mrs. Gurel, thank you very much for taking a near stranger into your home and letting me experience such a remarkable weekend. I can’t begin to express my gratitude that hospitality such as yours deserves. Thank you.
