Phillip and Rebecca Mefford

Nemrut Dağı Mount Nemrut Over 2000 years ago there was a relatively small, unimportant kingdom in Southcentral Turkey called Commagene, ruled by the maniacal King Antiochus I. Even though it was merely a buffer state between the greater Roman and Persian empires, King Antiochus I refused to be hidden in the shadows of history. He chose the summit of the 7,000 plus foot mount Nemrut to craft an elaborate tomb for himself, layered over with thousands of tons of shale and guarded to the east and to the west by giant statues of his favorite gods (himself being one of the gods). Today the shale mound still shrouds Antiochus’ supposed burial place (which no one has yet to find a way into) and the stone gods lie in ruins, remaining an intriguing and mysterious place to where travelers from all over the world seek to come. As recommended we approached Mount Nemrut’s summit at sunset, marveling at the uncanny combination of ingenuity and self-absorption of this petty king. from the Wanderings

Efsane Legend In the center of Şanlıurfa, a city in Southeastern Turkey near the biblical site of Haran, there is a legendary lake believed to have been created when the prophet Abraham was launched from a giant catapult by the cruel King Nimrod into what was supposed to be a giant pile of burning wood. Miraculously the fire was transformed into a lake full of holy carp, which is commonly today known as Balıklı Göl , or Fish Lake.* Not only is it a favorite site for visitors and city residents who want to go on a nice evening stroll, but it is also seen as a holy place. We found it intriguing on visiting this site to hear a story that seems such a far stretch from the stories about Abraham that we learned growing up. It makes us wonder: 1. Where do these stories originate? How do such legends develop? 2. What makes a place a holy place? 3. How do we appreciate/respect holy places that are not our own? *This legend we first read in Insight Guides: Turkey , was later confirmed to us

Ankara Ankara On our way back home we were able to drive through Turkey’s capitol. Known mostly as a community for government officials, Ankara’s most popular site for visitors is the Anıtkabir, a museum over-viewing Turkey’s fight to become a nation and the mausoleum of its revered first leader, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk. The Turkish Republic was formed in the wake of World War I. As the Turkish Ottoman Empire fell to the Allies and its sprawling land was divided amongst nations Atatürk rallied the Turkish army to take back what they felt to be theirs, including İstanbul. Since the formation of the nation of Turkey Atatürk and his successors have implemented drastic changes to create the modern state that it is today. What an interesting thing it is to be living in a country, amongst a culture that has such a long, rich history via the Ottoman Empire and yet such a young, emergent national structure in the modern-day Turkish Republic. from the Wanderings (summer 2010) slideshow at Biraz

Bebek Baby As we traveled this summer we visited friends and acquaintances when we could. If you know anything about Turkish people, you will know that their doors are always wide open to friends and guests. Often when leaving someone’s home they will say yine bekliyoruz , meaning “come again” or “we await your return.” However, there is one house from which we did not get this customary farewell: Last summer in a village outside of Antakya we were curious to observe a woman making fresh bread in an outdoor, community tandoor oven. Of course after a few moments the woman not only offered their bread to us, but urged us to come to their house for tea. We visited with them for awhile, being quietly served by two out of eight or so of the woman’s children. She inquired how long we were married—it had been about a year and three months at that point. Immediately, with a bit of shock in her voice she asked why we didn’t have any children yet. In her mind 15 months was more than enough time