The afternoon debrief was a time of continuing to make conscious the connections and lessons gained through the experiences this past month.     Reflections stretched back through the hike where the film crew filmed us for 3 days and helped us articulate our explorations, to the time delving into Paul and John around Ephesus, to historical and cultural studies around Turkey, and back to Madrid where the trip began with language, historical and religious studies.

I was heartened by the students’ abilities to articulate their own experiences, connections and education. Those kind of moments like in the tea house make this kind of work something pretty special where one is given the opportunity to really see the ways in which students have learned and deepened.

Each person brought a 6 word story they had written to open the wrap up together and I have included those below.

*  Oh man, I don’t speak Turkish!  -  TJ

*  Six word story?  Covering this month?  George

*  Trip was over before it began.  Forrest

*  Materialism breeds conflict.  Love alone governs.   Bryan

*  Ancient civilizations.  Realizing our country’s youth.  Elliot

*  Tastes smells and sounds.  What memories!  Jenna

*  Dude, they wouldn’t forget us, right?   Darren   (after he and Daniel got lost in Madrid)

*  We basked in everything around us.  Tay

*  Cenk, your tourist friends are lost.   Cezy  (after getting lost in Kas)

*  Privileged to gaze upon this place.  Jeremy

*  Around ancient walls, goats still graze.   Natalie

*  This trip blew me away.  Kapowie!   Bobby

*  Hey, lookiethere, just another ancient ruin.   Daniel

*  I love to eat chocolate gözleme.  Dev

*  Appreciation, realization, understanding whole new cultures.    Avery

*  Some differences, but many more similarities.   Hannah

*  Reunited with family.  Turkey enchants me.  Jess

*  Love one another, my root command.  Ryan

- Bobby

Avery

Bobby

Bryan

Cezanna

Daniel

Darren

Devon

Elliot

Forrest

George

Hannah

Jenna

Jeremy

Natalie

Russel

Ryan

Taylor

TJ

– Christine and Dave, from basecamp

Yesterday was day four of our hike along the Lycian way.  I was pulled from a deep sleep as the call to prayer rang through the hills and echoed through the dark morning. I swung my legs out of bed and winced as my tender feet touched down on the cold stone floor.  After quickly packing and pulling on damp and dirty clothes, I stumbled my way down to the 800-year-old sycamore in the courtyard of the mosque. My plan had been to climb up into the branches of the great tree and watch Gökçeören (“Gook-che-oer-en”) alive, but when I got there, the courtyard was already occupied.  There, strategically placed below the tree, was my dad, equipped with a microphone and speaking to Ali and Axel.

These two friends had stumbled upon our group in Patara while we were shopping for ice cream, cookies, and other lunch materials a couple of days back. They are making a documentary on the renovation of an ancient Lycian amphitheater in the old city of Patara.  The founding principles of our nation (the USA) were first borne in Lycia, and apparently President Obama may come and give a speech at the amphitheater’s inauguration. I guess Ali and Axel took a liking to us, because we have run into them a couple of times now. They are two of the sweetest and most genuine people I have come across. They took an interest in our group and our study of Christian Science and spent some time interviewing the crew. It was an unexpected and enjoyable part of the last week. Who knows, we might end up in a documentary with President Obama!

We strolled out of Gökçeören mid-morning, through the fruit trees lining the road and on down through the canyons. A goat herd passed us with two shepherdesses and their pack of bear-like Mastiffs. A stream gurgled in the creek bottom. Pine trees swept and swayed in the breezes and the hot still air was infused with the rich scent of damp earth.  We climbed up and out of the valley bottom and crested a ridge over a thousand feet later. My eyes drank in the view; the Mediterranean glittered in the far distance, a deep and inviting blue.  Emerald green hills graced the middle ground, and directly in front of me, the ancient temple of Phellos crowded the hilltop.

That evening we spent the night at our guide, Ayden’s home. His place is a veritable sanctuary for any weary traveler, and he had 19 of us stumble through his door looking for hot showers and food. It seems like everyone except for me was able to acquire a hot shower and we all feasted on food grown in his terrace garden.  When I think about what makes life great, the thing that immediately comes to mind is good food shared with a group of friends in a beautiful place. Well, last night was definitely that. As a bonus to a great day, Bodum, Ayden’s mammoth-like mastiff guard dog that prowled around the buildings at night, attacked no one on their way to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

I wish I had more time to explore this country, but as I write, our bus is speeding me away to the airport for a final hurrah in Istanbul and then a flight home.  Although I have now written 634 words (as my handy computer tells me) I still have not found the perfect word to describe Turkey. The closest I can come is enchanting – make of it what you will.

- Jess Lewis

Some might think that America came up with the democratic government system we use today and that the founding fathers were the first to have that brilliant idea about how to run a country. But think again.  Today as we hiked along the coast of ancient Lycia and looked down at ruins below, I learned that more than two thousand years before America became a county, people here were experimenting with representative government and were developing a similar government system as ours today.   An ancient port city by the name of Patara, this country Lycia was located on the Asia side of modern day Turkey down on the Mediterranean.  All that is left today is a theater, a couple sarcophaguses, a few pillars, and what I am assuming was the gate into the city. This city, very much like Ephesus, was destroyed by the very river that made it possible. All that is left of the old harbor is a marsh full of grasses and turtles.

Now this city is under excavation, and when walking past the ancient site it is quite obvious, but excavation isn’t very easy when the soil is wet. So instead of excavating, the team of archeologist have begun a new project: the reconstruction of the ancient parliament building. Cenk (“Jenk”), our guide, explained to those of us around him on our hike to the beach that Patara was like the Washington DC of Greece and that, most likely, the reconstructed parliament building would be used for presentations and such.

While buying food for our next day’s hike, we came across a magazine with an article titled “Americans, How Dumb are They?” We flipped through the pages to the article and read through it, thoroughly amused, and then we got to the part where it said that 38% of Americans  given the citizenship test recently failed it. The questions ranged from what ocean is on the West Coast and who did we fight during WWII, to who is the name of our current vice president and such, all of which we got right as Bobby read the questions to us as a group outside the little store to test our knowledge.

While shopping, we had attracted two men who were making a documentary about Patara and had asked us with German accents to not look at the camera and to walk through the store for a few more minutes before checking out and such. They now stood next to us, holding their equipment and running around us with their camera. They asked us some questions, while filming,  about if we knew where our government structure had come from, which we were also able to answer thanks to Cenks’ previous talk and the impromptu quizzing. They asked if they could film us at breakfast the next morning, did a quick interview, and then took an into-the-sunrise shot of us leaving the city that began it all, in terms of the government being of the people and for the people: Patara. You never know on any given day what you are going to get to learn about.    Oh yeah, and then we hiked all day along the coast of the Med!

- Daniel

Just another day in Turkey. The hotels we’ve stayed in have all been super nice, but there’s always something a little bit odd about each one. And it’s not a bad thing, just something we’re not used to, coming from the States.

And with that wake up, I start my day.  Breakfast is set out on gigantic plates: chocolate bread, spinach and cheese rolls, cucumber slices, half a tomato, a hardboiled egg, cherry jam, olives, salami, and two different slices of cheese. Don’t forget çay, the only tea I’ve ever loved. Turkish breakfasts are probably the best way to start one’s day.

After our meal we load up our bags into the bus and head to the center of the town. We stop after a few minutes to pick up the guide and discover that we’re actually going to be starting the hike from there. We grab our packs and start our trek. Following sketchy written directions and a well-marked trail, we’d be making good time, except for the fact that every five seconds we stop to take pictures of flowers. Nobody really seems to mind, however. I mean, when you’re walking through olive groves on a sunny day in the middle of Turkey, who would really care how much time was spent stopping to take pictures and look around. We were in no hurry.

Aqueducts, dogs, flowers, birds, bees, songs – a little more than seven miles later we found ourselves in beautiful Patara. I started with five companions (Bryan, Hannah, Daniel, Forest, and Avery), and ended with seven. Who were the two additions? Why, none other than Lykia and Gunesli, our loyal adopted dogs. The two of them joined up in the first town in the hope of food and walked nearly nine miles with us and even now Sunny (a.k.a. Gunesli), is sleeping on the porch above us. A trip to a Mediterranean beach at the end of the day was our reward.

Madrid was great, Istanbul was exciting, Selçuk was truly a memorable week, and now here we are in something close to paradise.  We learned today that National Geographic listed walking this coast as one of the 50 best adventures in the world and our guide wrote the article for them.   Even after thinking I would long be asleep by now, all my memories of Turkey are fond. I’m still amazed every time it dawns at me that this is in fact a school night and here I am in Turkey with my friends and teachers, writing about how much I love it here. I love learning about this place and the people in it.  The historical and religious significance, the language, the customs, and the food are only a few of the things that make this an incredibly worthwhile school trip.

- Devon

Being completely ignorant of what a Turkish Bath was, I had been expecting segregated baths for men and women, a secluded changing room, a hot tub, maybe a sauna, and I had heard that I could get a massage – which would include “scrubbing” with something like a loofa.  Upon arriving we discovered that, unfortunately, there were no women available to do the massages, but that the men would be happy to massage we women.  We each declined out of decorum.

After making this decision, the girls from our little group and I were issued our afore-mentioned dish-towels and were shown the changing room. To our surprise, the changing room was immediately next to the reception desk, had small window/openings out to the lobby about neck high (and I’m short), a fabric curtain that pulled across the doorway, but that only came down as far as my knees.  Humm.  We all were feeling brave, however, and proceeded to strip down and put on our Turkish Bath appropriate attire.

As already mentioned, the next test of our nerve was to leave the seclusion of the changing room and march across the lobby of the TB (Turkish Bath) to where the door was to the actual “bath” area.  We all arrived safely on the other side of the lobby, and were shown the door through which we needed to enter to the bath.  I gently pushed it aside, and to my surprise saw the boys from our group.  I quickly closed the door thinking I had gone the wrong way, however the large dish-towel-clad Turkish gentleman ushering us around assured me that I had found the right door, so I pushed it a tiny bit open, warned the boys we were coming in, and launched forth.

The room we entered was all made of marble – the least expensive building material in Turkey.  It was a marble oven.  Rather than having a “bath,”  it was a room with small marble basins lining each wall filled with hot water, and a huge marble “table” in the center – and all of it was heated.  I forgot to mention that part of our TB attire that we were issued were little rubber slippers.  We found out on entering the bath that they were to protect our feet from the considerable heat in the floor.  Splayed out on the large table in the center of the room were the boys, each laying at a different angle with their heads towards the center like a many-handed clock.

In each basin around the room, there was a small bowl designed to pour water on one’s head.  So, basically, the point of the TB was to be in a hot room (although not as hot as a sauna), lay on a REALLY hot marble table, pour more hot water over your head at different intervals, and talk with your friends. As I mentioned, none of the girls had signed up for a massage, but we did get to see several of the boys get massages – which were very entertaining.  One of them will have to explain it, but I did hear repeatedly that TJ felt like “a changed man” after his.

Unfortunately, none of us had thought of taking a camera – not that it would have survived the humidity of the bath, so we have no pictures to share.  Just know we each emerged after about 45 minutes looking like lobsters – all for just $7.50

There’s nothing like experiencing one of the more exotic things in the world.

Signing off from Turkey – Natalie

Not a bath, but still exotic!  The group visits Kupatas Beach:

Our certainty diminished significantly after about a mile of walking. We came across a rather large creek or drainage ditch. Approach difficulties due to water seem to be a reoccurring theme on our international climbing trips. Since it wasn’t even relatively clean water, we opted to walk along the side looking for a bridge rather than try to cross. Half a mile later, when confronted with a barbed wire fence, we decided to cut through a different orchard. As we approached the highway, a house appeared, with a gate that interestingly enough was preventing our leaving rather than entering. “Merhaba. We are lost.”  It seemed to do the trick, and the owner let us out with a helpful point in the direction of the highway.

Another half mile later, we ended up in approximately the same place we had started an hour or so earlier. Yet another tour of the nearby orchards ended us no closer to the cliffs, and we figured heading back to the city wouldn’t be a terrible idea, so long as we still found some place to get a couple climbs in. Spirits far from dampened; we headed to a small cliff we had spotted before. Upon arriving and taking out our gear, we were quickly joined by a small crowd of local children who chattered away in Turkish, while we had not the faintest idea of what they were saying. We eventually discovered (from drawn out gestures) that they were asking if we were going to climb the cliff. “Avett! Would you like to?” More gestures, pointing to the cliff and then making climbing motions. Judging from the enthusiasm on their end, they were pretty jazzed at the idea, and we spent the rest of the afternoon climbing with Selçuks.  Our itch to climb finally scratched, we returned to our hotel and the pleasures of an excellent Turkish bath.

- Elliot

Today we woke up early to bread and honey sandwiches made for us by the family that runs our hotel. After sunrise, we hopped onto a boat and began our four-hour journey to the small Greek island of Patmos, or, as our tour guide likes to put it, “The Jerusalem of the Aegean Sea.” John wrote the book of Revelation on this island, and it’s undeveloped enough that I can almost picture how it would’ve looked when he was here 2,000 years ago. There is a blue, crescent-shaped harbor set off by bright white houses and lush greenery. Then there’s the sky! It’s been offsetting the deep blue waves all day. Out on the boat, if we stepped out onto the deck we could watch petrels and gulls swooping and gliding in the sun. In short, it’s been a breathtaking day.

Upon arriving at Patmos, we met out Greek guide Margarita and she took us to the cave where John is said to have received his visions. The cave has now been closed in by walls and has one small window overlooking the sea in order to create an Orthodox church. I spent most of my time inside observing a highly frazzled priest. He was looking for something and desperately opening and slamming books closed, yelling, and shoving people. The cave was also decorated with icons, gold, and flowers that were around the fenced-in area where John is said to have “laid his head”, and a silver flowery frame around where he “placed his hand in order to stand.” I couldn’t help thinking that I would like it much better if it was still just a cave without walls blocking the view of the sea.

After that we went to visit a monastery and then were given free time to explore the town or beach. We Link girls started with the town! After attempting to convince a Greek woman to let us use our Turkish lira to buy ice cream (and failing) we headed for the beach. On our way to the beach, a dog that has been described by some people as a “balloon animal seconds before popping,” and by others as “a massive sausage supported by toothpicks,” began to follow us. We disputed over his name, some of us wanted to name him “Patmos” while others, and I’m not saying who, were rooting more for “Fatmos.” Cough-cough-Elliot-cough. We set up on the beach, rolled our pants up to step in, and played with Patmos in the sand.

That was when I noticed a blue-green piece of seaglass in the sand. I’ve grown up collecting seaglass to put in jars back home, so finding it in Greece felt really special to me and I immediately jumped up and began combing the beach for more. The concept behind seaglass is meaningful for me. It starts out as a sharp glass bottle that finds itself somehow launched into a place as foreign and vast as the sea. It’s tumbled about in the sea, through rough and smooth waters, until it eventually comes across a beach. But its journey is only just beginning. By now it has shattered into tiny pieces but it’s still jagged around the edges. And so, the little bits of glass are battered against the rock and sand, over and over again. They do not realize this is necessary for them to become smooth. The amount of time each fragment of glass is whipped into the shore changes, some just take longer to lose their roughness, but in the end the result is the same: little bright colorful things that catch my eye as I walk along the water. Seaglass always reminds me that the journey I’m on might seem difficult and tumultuous, but at least I’m always heading towards a better place. It’s like when Rumi said, “birds do not learn to fly until they lose all their feathers,” likewise seaglass cannot become smooth and peaceful until it’s been tossed and battered repeatedly. People are the same. We need to be tested, softened and renewed. Remembering all the while that our journey is not over.

So, as I collected the small seaglass off the beach of an island in Greece, I could not help but be insanely grateful. This trip has been a wildly awesome opportunity, but also full of calm reminders of the things I feel are beautiful in the world…

- Taylor

Yet another thought expanding day exploring ancient sites from Bible times around Ephesus.  We read chapters from the Gospel of John up in the Basilica of St John where he is entombed.  I am getting so much more from the Scripture reading here in this setting, where both the people, and somehow the ideas, too, are coming to life for me.  I feel more inspired when there are people I can envision standing behind the stories I have been taught.  There is something amazing about being in the very spot where John wrote the Gospel of John and reading the words together.

After the Basilica, we went to lunch at a women’s carpet weaving center where we ate some barbecue.  Lunch was fantastic and the tour of the weaving center was incredible to see.  We saw them pulling silk from the cocoons and then knotting the rugs on the looms.  There was one tiny 12 inch x 12 inch silk rug up on the wall with a knot count per square inch of 1500 which took four years to weave on sale for about $40,000 USD.  I bartered for it for my step mom, but they wouldn’t come down below $30,000 so she’ll have to wait.

We ventured back to Ephesus again in the afternoon, and students gave their various presentations at the sites they had researched.  Our guide Cenk had set up a special tour of a cave they are just now excavating, where Paul is believed to have lived during his years here.  For me the Bible is coming to life.

- TJ