Istanbul Trip in Pictures

Istanbul in June

Thinking about it now while nesting at home in California, walking with my mom and sister in the Fatih destrict of Istanbul on Saturday feels like a dream.  VisitingIstanbul  this June detached me completely from daily life and provided me a real break.

I enjoyed walking in the Topkapi area and grand bazaar on Thursday with all 12 of us.  We walked the old streets and visited Sultan Ahmet mosque.  We spent some time in the Grabd Bazaar before dividing into two groups, one to go back to the hotel and one to continue on walking around.  We visited some shopping areas afterward as the bazaar itself was inappropriateky expensive.  We found a couple good bargains and got stuck in a pouring rain in the middle of a local Thursdsy Bazaar with no roof and no real shops to escape the rain for a few minutes. We had to wait a long time for taxi and hunt two down for the 8 of us who stayed for shopping and got to the hotel soaking wet.

On Friday we got on a tour for some famous shopping areas including a leather shop. The leather was really soft  and the designs were stylish for a relatively inexpensive price. We separated from the tour and shopped around for ourselves. It was my sister and mom, my mother in law and sister in law, my brother, and me.  We decided to take the public transition route to go back to the hotel.  We took the tranva first and rode off at where it was supposed to be our transfer to metro to get to Taksim square where our hotel was but the transfer included a 10 minutes walk and another toll which due to lack of English speaking of the staff cost us almost twice as much.  In general and to our utmost surprise we didn't find the Turkish people much helpful or considerate this time.  The taxi drivers seemed mad, some sellers seemed offensive and hard to deal with discouraging us from doing business with. I have a theory that it might have been the June weather that got them inpatient?!

On Saturday we went to Sulaymanieh Mosque which was huge and simple but beautiful.  In general the mosques had less color compared to the Mosques in Isfahan and many other places in Iran.  Instead, the buildings were designed with so much details, generally ornamented through architecture rather than colors and mosaic.  In front of the mosque I took sight of a coffee pot which I had promised myself to buy the next time I went to Turkey.  I decided on a 4 cup pot and chose a wooden handle. I was looking at the tea collections when the shop keeper approached me, grabbed the coffee pot away from my hand and walked to the back of his shop. I was baffled and watch him to understand his next move but he just stayed there proving to me that he refused to sell.  I was shocked and even to this date I'm surprised and puzzled as to why. Is it their style of selling? Is it the hot weather that got them inpatient and mad? Is it the fact that they could tell we were Iranian? And if so why? They know Iranians have brought a huge business to their country. I decided to find an information center and get some guidance to understand if there was anything that would offend the Turkish people but it was lame hunt.

We walked in the old winding streets entangled within the modern traffics it was not built to tolerate. We got to Shazdeh Mosque in time for noon prayers.  The mosques were orderly and you could see a variety of Moslems there with variety of Islamic covers for women. It was endearing to walk.  A lady gave us sugar cubes, I took one but she opened my palm and poorer a few in my fist. She was a darling and I had no use for the . I decided to bring them to San Jose for our Sufi friends' gatherings.

We divided into two groups again and the sippers headed to the Fatih area.  It was crowded Saturday afternoon and fun to walk all the people shopping around.  There were many tourists from other Moslem countries shopping.  There were many western looking tourists too of course and I wonder if the Turks were as rude to them as they were to us. Of course not all of the Turks were rude.  I particularly found the Kurd shoppers helpful and smiling. Being smiling and showing an open face is one of the main recommendations in Islam you know.

We watched the Iran-Argentuna soccer game in the hotel restaurant that night. It was a glorious loss at the 90+ minute with a definite pentalty missed to the announced by the referry. It was sad but we tried to remain positive.

On Sunday we took a tour to Buyuk Ada or the Big Island. It was beautiful and the seabus ride there was joyful with many great conversations with brothers and sister. I really liked the Turkish icecream which we got a taste of in the island.

Sunday was the last evening we were all together and two days before little angel's first birthday. So M and I invited the family to a birthday cake ina local cafe.  Some neighboring patrons sang m Happy Birthday in Turkish. We sang the Persian version and got her blow her candle which she managed with A's help. It was a joyful and memorable birthday celebration for sure.

On the last day just before goodbyes my mom gifted me a 4 cup coffee pot.

If You Are A Muslim

Just think about it.

You are first a Muslim and then a Shiite.

You are first a Muslim and then a Sunni.

You are first a Muslim and then a Sufi.

You are first a Muslim and then a Bahaii.

You are first a Muslim and then any-other-secondary-belief-you-have.

In Islam it is forbidden to be disappointed from Merci of God.

In Islam you are called to return whoever you are, whatever you have done.

In Islam as long as you believe in God and hereafter and do good deeds you are not to worry and not to feel saddened.

In Islam, you worth the Divine.

In Islam, "whoever enters this house, give them bread and do not ask of their belief; since whomever deserves to live in the land of God for sure deserves bread in the land of Bolhasaan (you read me, you)."

In Islam it is forbidden to judge.

In Islam if a person is killed a whole nation is killed.

If you are a Muslim, be one!  Otherwise anyone can and will do crime under the name of Islam but really to gain power and resources and you have let them do so.

PS: Here is a good read:  http://www.peakprosperity.com/blog/85802/iraq-breaks-down-oil-surges?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+ChrisMartensonBlogs+%28Peak+Prosperity%29&utm_content=FaceBook

SiDE

SiDE is a tiny little town close to Antalya with ruins of a Greek city and a perfect place to celebrate M's birthday.  We dined at Fiesta, a sea-view restaurant with welcoming staff. They were happy to hear we were Iranian, like many many other shops and restaurants we stopped at.  I asked my dad to find out if they would bring a cake with candles for M as soon as we stepped in. As soon as we were sitter my dad assured me that it was taken care of.

We ordered Turkish kabob and cutlet.  It took some time for them to bring the food but when they did it proved to worth the wait.  After dinner M was eager to walk back because the kids were not behaving and it took some cajoling to convince him to stay. Eventually they stopped the music and replaced with with a Turkish style Happy Birthday song and a few waiters arrived with a red cake compete with lit candles.  We all sang the song to him happy that it would be remember able birthday in a Turkish restaurant by the Meditranean sea.

Little princess got to swim some today. She seemed to really enjoy herself and afterwards she seemed to enjoy a deep nap by the poolside.

Given the list bag we shopped a few items in the hotel and also in SiDE. The quality and design of some clothing and shoes have pleasantly surprised me.  It is not inexpensive but perhaps more reasonable compared to the US considering the quality.  I feel particularly excited about polo shirts we got for M and A and also a bag and a beach bag I got.  Looking forward to some more shopping in Istanbul enshala.

Hello Antalya!

So here we are; at a resort by the Meditranean sea and reunited with my dad.  It was supposed to be a five star resort but we won't rank it higher than three. It's clean and the pool ambiance is nice but that's about it. Aside from that m developed fever during our flight and then Lufthansa didn't deliver one of the bags from Frankfurt to Istanbul and we won't receive it before Monday. This is kind of strange and unacceptable but it is what it is. So lots of energy has been spent on discussing the hotel issues, m's health situation, and  planning for replacing the items we never received in the lost bag.

It was a short night last night with frequent raises with m's wanting to be nursed.  We made it to the last hit of the breakfast service and then while everyone was relaxing by the pool I hit the gym. Really, I'm an active traveller not enjoying sun bathing much at all. We had a relaxing time under the shades overlooking the sea sipping on yogurt drinks and chatting away.

I cannot wait for my sister and brother in law to join us tonight. And thank God m's fever seems fading away, enshala.

France Vacation the Second Time

France in the shoulder season of mid June treated us well.

We travelled to Paris as a family of four this time. Baby m has undeniably slowed us down but also has added a great pleasure with her little presence; she has been a good sport for most of the time.

We got to travel outside Paris this time, visiting Rambollie, Chateau Chambord, and Chateau Chenonceau. We spent a night in Bloise which was an older city with a river and another Chateau we didn't visit.  Looking back at the memories it was a nice trip that could be more relaxing than what chance we provided it.

I haven't been letting go of things yet.  The job I left. The new job I accepted. The immediate assignments as soon as I will start enshala. Little angel's care plans. The dilemma of motherhood and professionalism.  These are the main issues bugging my mind preventing me from being in the moment.

I must say it was a huge mistake, not relaxing I mean. A repeated one too which make it even worse.  I will try to let go for the rest of the trip.

The castles we visited added new experience to our tourist selves.  Chateau Rambord was huge and dark and mysterious with many rooms and many doors and many pathways and many locked gates.

It had an interesting staircase in the middle of the main foyer where two flights of steps led to the top floors but each flight designed to not meet anywhere along the way even at landing.  It had a huge moat around it which made it even more mysterious.

Chateau Chenonceau had a very pleasant and welcoming taste to it, as contrary to the previous one.

From the entrance gate the tree shadowed pathway pleasantly greeted us. The tower and balcony facing the front garden showcased the classic depiction of a tiring castles, which I had only seen in books and movies.  There were many details considered in the interior design of the castle and the huge kitchen with many windows receiving the day light pleasantly surprised us.

It resembled a happy place as contrast to the mystery of the first one.  We heard that Chenonceau had a feminin nature which was easily conprehended.

We payed a short visit to the city of Paris today, just stopping at the Eiffel Tower and then took a walk in my favorite Qurtier Latin.  Paris never fails to please.  It was a nice short visit and I feel thankful for the opportunity.

On to New Adventures

After 7 years, I said goodbye to my current employer. In the end of the day I surrendered my badge and walked out the doors, knowing I couldn't go back anymore unless someone summoned me.

The emotional state I'm experiencing has taken me by surprise. I feel grateful and sad. People have been so kind to me. Genuinely sad to see me go and that means a lot to me. I'm grateful. Forever grateful for getting to know these amazing people and working with them. I'm leaving knowing that I'm inherited with some lasting friendships and experience.

I feel forever grateful!

A Traveller's Longing

Business trips can be really lonely.  Sitting in airplanes alone, walking in airports rushing through, dining alone, missing calls and not the tying the time to chat.

I feel lost tonight. My flight got cancelled and they reroute us with much longer trip time. I will get home past midnight enshala and I haven't seen my kids a whole day. I miss then so bad.

8th

How I felt the first time I met him. Curled up; closed eyes; wide open mouth, crying. Overwhelmed with birth I suppose.  I cried too, overwhelmed with a newly discovered love that suddenly filled up my whole being.

Today he is a big kid. Not quite a little man yet.  Oblivious to the world and immersed in his little world. Not much curled up anymore.  He is walking upright now. Eight years has passed. I watch him grow...

I know I have grown with him; I still feel like a student in the parenthood class.  Everyday a new challenge. Everyday a new joy. Everyday a new exam.  I receive more failed points I feel than well-done awards. I'm praying.  I pray for the good in the world to always be with him!

Happy 8th Birthday my little boy! Mommy loves you! Always and always...

Dawn of a Miracle

I believe in dreams. Miracles happen.

To Teach What Was Never Mastered

I took the kids to the park yesterday.  It was the first time the little angel was sitting in a sandbox.  She seemed amused by the texture and feel of sand. Took her a few minutes to get acclimated and feel at ease. Finally she started exploring around, pulled a toy truck toward herself and started toying around, occasionally grabbing a fist full of sand letting it dripple down her fingers.

My sunny son went right to business, bringing over all the trucks, putting them in line and digging out sand to be carried by the trucks.

In the mean time a little boy, may be 3 or 4 years old, stepped into the sandbox. Very calmly and rightfully he came over and took two of the trucks my son was playing with. His dad noted that he had to share to which in broken words he responded "this is mine".  He toddled away with the trucks all the while looking back at my son as if anticipating a reaction. My son was just looking at him in disbelief I suppose.  The little boy played with the trucks for two minutes or so and finally left them there and climbed out of the sandbox. At this point A came out of his trans and continued playing.

I wish I told him to feel free to share but feel free to speak up for yourself too.

I feel like I'm playing in the adult version of a sandbox in a day to day basis. People claiming my work. People leaving me in trans by acting so rightfully and knowingly selfish. People doing the wrong and anticipating the right.   People reacting childishly to another's attention and immediately calling for attention towards themselves.  People ruling around in their unruly mannerism.  People so territorial yet protesting anyone's right to their work labeling them as uncollaborative.  And people like me.  Speechless and baffled by their selfish unfair behavior.

I wish I had learned to speak up when I was playing in a sandbox. And now I wish to teach what I never mastered.

Happy Mother's Day

My little angel has been sick with a cold. We had a very restless sleepless night last night. Morning arrived way too fast after the relative calm at around 4:30am. It was nonetheless awesome to wake up to the gift extended to my face by my sunny son.  Now with a pounding headache I'm smiling to the joys of the day.

I love Mother's Day! Even with a sick baby! Moms smiling and kids a tad more grateful for a few hours.  May God give Grace to all moms and kids!

The Push from Above

I am amazed at how unfair people can be. How selfish! How power thirsty!

I wonder why. And I wonder why it should happen to me.

I feel very helpless. Yet I want to focus on my blessings. I want to focus on my path. I want to trust the divine and just surrender.

I find it all very hard.

Tonight, I pray. For all who are in distress beyond their means. And for me.

Food Adventures of the Day

The barista spelled my name correctly!

Organic homegrown mint

Chez M

Favorite munch of the season

The Nomad Within

She took the highway going south, the radio tuned on a country music station. She was listening absentmindedly, holding on to her dream of the night that passed.  A new idea. A new dream.

A new hope. The constant disappointment...

She found her grip tighter on the steering wheel. Her jaws pressing. Ahh she sighed, letting loose a little.

She pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror: the conduit to self obsession. Long hair. Large earrings. Tired eyes.

She wrapped her fingers around the wheel again. Took a deep breath. Looked out into the horizon, going south.

Feeling Like An Immigrant Again

I feel like an immigrant again. It's an early foggy morning with the dawn just ahead of us. I'm en route to the airport for a day trip. I know my way around. I know the roads. I know the distances. I know the language, the jargon, the jokes, the greetings. Even where i can get tea in each terminal. I know the business I'm going to conduct in a few hours. Yet, I feel like an immigrant.

The pain of departing my homeland almost fourteen years ago so vivid in my heart. The joy of seeing M again after a long separation overwhelmed the pain.  I remember the fog in the air the first day I landed in Toronto. The light of the fading sun; the smell of new kinds of pastries; the smooth drive to an apartment that was to be my home for the next six years; the anxiety to reach a long distance phone and call home.

I miss my mother.

I wonder what if A also packs his bags one day and fly far far away paying me visits just over phone just once in a while. 

I wonder how parents endure. What a sacrifice!

I will be back home tonight enshala. Possibly past m's bedtime. I wonder what she feels about her day.  Will she miss me? I will be back enshala and I will hold her when she wakes around midnight and I will nurse her and I will caress her fluffy hair.

I feel like an immigrant again and I hope to burry this feeling within me so my kids don't have to experience it, ever.

Fragrance of Molana

It was a beautiful evening spent with Esen Chelebi, 23rd generation of our beloved Molana.  She was full of grace with a smile that was sweet and welcoming. Her presence was love. It was such an easy presence.

I would have never imagined being so close to a defendant of our Pir, Hazrate Molana. Such a blessing!

Far Far Away

She stepped into the dark room and went straight to the sink to rinse off her hands. The smell of the dinner, the scattering flu viruses, all the hand shakes, all washed down the drain. She then put down her purse and turned on the lights.

The room was set how she had left it. Her laptop still plugged in. Some cloths neatly left on the chair.  Her book by the bed stand.  She connected her iPhone to the laptop, get it charged and synced. She laid her jacket on the bed and sat on the chair by the window; the night and the city underneath her gaze. The cars. The lights. The reflections on the river not too far away. The noises of the city at night. Her gaze flying over the buildings. Back to the river reflecting the bridge lights.

She took out her heels and suit; put on sweatpants and jacket and sneakers; grabbed the room key and iPhone and earphones and walked out the room. She head to the bridge, jogging along the sidewalk.

It was long ago she was there at the bottom of that bridge with him. Deep in the night. Feeling assured and secured. She was there again, deep in the night, feeling secured and assured. Albeit in a totally different sense. She was there but far far away from then.

The Unspoken Heart

Back and forth my mind moves between feeling grateful and feeling betrayed. The injustice bothers me. Then I ask myself: didn't the worst of the injustice happen to the best of the men and women? Who am I to complain?

The ignorance makes me feel hopeless. Then I remind myself of my many blessings I am granted for no reason.

I am a nobody in the eyes of the Beloved. I want to remember that. That must feel liberating. Yet I feel trapped.

So I pray and I repent. Then every move I make, every step, I say the word. And I smile.

One More Time A New Beginning

The untidy closet is tidy and organized. Both kids were in bed and it was just then that we could start working on the clutter. Now the result of the labor is fabulous. These are the jolts of khoone takooni in our house, the condensed Spring Cleaning if you wish, the Persian style.

In one shelf I sorted out my diaries; the very first notebook started at the Perisan New Year's Eve, 1990, 24 years ago! I had used my most favorite pen and exercised my best penmanship. I had drawn some pictures in the background. I was really into writing my first note.

I skimmed through the first couple of notes but I didn't dare reading the rest. I knew I would find the unfamiliar me who lived in the past and I would miss that 'me'. I better remember this when A and m are going to act strange in a few years.  In another notebook I found some of my poems. How proud I was for each one of them! How in love, in doubt, disappointed I felt in some!

I found some notes written in a secret language the keys to which I do not know anymore.

I found occasional notes written by friends who should have been with me at the time.

Notes from elementary school to high school to university to getting married to emigrating to Toronto to finding new friends to finishing school to landing my first job to getting pregnant to all the emotions of motherhood to yesterday when I wrote down yet another dream.

From that big house in Khane Eafahan to this house in the edge of San Jose; Who would have ever guessed?

A new Nowrouz is ahead of us once more. A new beginning enshala, if there were more days in my life.  And more notes to be written and never read unless I gather the courage one day.