Tuesday, September 17, 2013


So Konya has been quite a bit different than the rest of our trip.

We have been sick the ENTIRE time.  There is much less to do here so it’s easier to take it slower.  Besides the basics, get up, get dressed, eat, go to bed…we have maybe had one small adventure every day.  Mostly our days have been filled with naps or camping out in bathrooms.  I feel that as of today, I am over the worst of it and on the mend (for sure this time!)  As for poor Suha, he can’t breathe, sitting down, standing up or laying down.  If we were by the sea I would make him go clear his sinus cavities like I did before we left.  Never had a sinus infection go away so fast before!!  Anyway, we are far from the sea. 

Here it is hot but a dry heat that turns freezing cold at night and sears your skin during the day.  I had given up catching up on this blog thing because I have had no energy whatsoever.  But now that Suha is down and I’m feeling better, I have time AND energy J

So here are some short stories that happened in the last week:


We went to visit Rumi’s tomb.  It is said that his tomb is upright or at least tall enough that he stood in it when they buried his son next to him.  Muslim’s believe that a profit’s body never rots.  The mausoleum that stands over his tomb has undergone a lot of changes since 1238!  He was buried in a garden and when a patron asked if he could build something magnificent over his tomb his son said that God’s sky was the most beautiful covering anyone could ask for.  So nothing was built.  Why there is a building there today is a mystery to me, my audio guide numbering system was all messed up so the story got a little convoluted for me.  There are many relics there, one of the hairs off Mohamed’s beard in a box (you couldn't see it).  People where kissing and smelling the box.  I couldn't smell a thing.  There was a piece of rice with God’s name written on it, a copy of the oldest Koran, Rumi’s cloak and hats.  Ostrich eggs (not sure why) hanging from the ceiling, leaves that had Arabic written on them and beautiful other pictures and paintings.  We had cay and sat and learned about Rumi and how his father moved from Afghanistan to Konya to get away from the Mongolian invasion.  He was so sad and lamented his move.  Everyone loved him.  He married and had a son.  His wife died and he married again and had another son and a daughter.  He heard a gold smith  pounding away and started to sing and dance to the tin of his hammer and thus was born the Whirling Dervishes as well as marrying off his daughter to the gold smiths son J  When he died people of all walks of life, Muslim, Christian, Jewish, rich and poor came to see him buried.  He was loved by all. 

His students would spend three days in a corner contemplating if they wanted to become a Dervish.  After three days of fasting and watching, he would go into 1001 days of completing 18 tasks.  If he finished this then he would begin his studies, be given a room where he would fast, pray, study and everything he needed would be brought to him.  The dervishes practice 4 hours a day, the y spin in one direction the whole time, with one hand reaching up toward God with his head leaning toward that shoulder showing his trust in God and one hand reaching down to earth and mankind. 

We went to see the whirling Dervishes and it was pretty darn mesmerizing!  I can’t believe they can start and stop so gracefully, I’d couldn’t walk a straight line after turning that much, okay I couldn’t turn that much without falling down!  They had a flute play for a while that was just plain flipping amazing.  I could listen to that all the time.  There was a cool drum and mandolin and other stuff I didn’t recognize.  The whole ceremony is steeped in tradition and was fun to watch.  A few of us clapped and the Muslims in the crowd got upset.  Suha said, “It’s not a performance to clap for, it’s a prayer.  Clapping cheapens their offering to God.”  I told him us tourists didn’t know any better, it was our way of appreciating the beauty, not meant to offend. 


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