Veni, Vidi, Vici!

Dear Family, Friends, and Interested Observers,

It’s a beautiful, sunny day in Ankara. That’s good, because I was not happy with last month’s gas heating bill. I’m glad that my roommate Sinan is there to help pay.

I think Scott and Hannah thus far have enjoyed their trip to Turkey. They arrived in Ankara last week Thursday after spending a few days in Istanbul. After a brief visit last fall, I had planned on returning to Tokat Province in late winter, so as to familiarize myself better with the city and the region that surrounds it. Scott and Hannah agreed to tag along on my trip, although these areas are a bit harder scramble than the established tourist itineraries along the coasts.

Our first stop was Sivas. Sivas was the capital of a 19th-century Ottoman province by the same name, and this province incorporated the Tokat area as a sub-province. The journey from Ankara to Sivas lasts seven hours, and gradually climbs the high steppe and wheat lands of north central Anatolia. A thick bed of snow covered a treeless and rather desolate landscape, and the villages along the road were few and far between.

Sivas lies at a very high altitude (1275 meters / 4183 feet), and we were surprised by how cold it was when we arrived. Annoyingly, pedestrian traffic along the city's sidewalks had compressed the heavy snowfall earlier in the week into a thick coat of ice. Despite its climatic conditions, snow removal was clearly dodgy in this town, although we did see tractors working to clear the streets. All the major sites of Sivas, most of which date from the Seljuk and early Ottoman periods, were centrally located, but the ice made visiting them treacherous. We were most impressed by the front facade and twin minarets of the Gök Medrese ("The Sky Blue Theological School"). The color in the name refers to the decorative turquiose glaze of some of the bricks in the facade; the technique is better scene in the funerary portal above. If you're in town, you should also check out the museum, a 19th-century school later converted into a museum, that housed the Sivas Congress of 1919. The Sivas Congress promulgated the bases for resistance to European occupation after the First World War. Both the ethnographic section and the exhibit on the Congress are informative and restrained.

We were also a bit underwhelmed by our dining choice that night. The hotel manager had suggested that we go to certain restaurant nearby that offered musical entertainment. It was difficult to find, loud, and overpriced. The female vocalist was decked out outrageously in a silver sequin number, and the bağlama (lute) player was drowned out by the corny synthesizer accompaniment. Scott and Hannah put on a brave face.

We rolled into Tokat Saturday evening. The descent from Sivas was steep and winding. Tokat is much lower in elevation (623 meters / 2043 feet) so there was no snow on the city sidewalks, and it felt much warmer. The next morning, we had a nice walk in the Sulusokak neighborhood of the old town. We capped our walking tour off with a hot salep (steamed milk drink coated with cinnamon). I was pleased to see that several historic structures were being restored, particularly the fine Taş Han ("stone shops / hostel"). With more such efforts, Tokat could win more tourist traffic. I hope that restorations will help preserve the moldering wood frame Ottoman houses around town.

Scott and Hannah faced a few recurrent problems for us during the trip. First, bathrooms. You more often then not pay for the privilege in Turkey, and apart from mosque courtyards, you are not sure when you will next find one. Scott and Hannah became experts at finding their opportunities by the end of the tour. Second, Turkish tea drinking habits. Tea is on offer everywhere at all times of day or night. It seems more polite to accept rather than refuse. Third, the meaty east Anatolian diet. Döner (sliced, spit-roasted meat), köfte (meatballs), kebaps (meat grilled on a stick), and back again. The Tokat Kebabı, the local specialty which is at least served with a healthy compliment of roasted vegetables, was unavailable as fresh veggies were out of season. Four, again, the ice. Although the vistas were stunning, I don't know if the ascent to the citadel of Tokat was worth it this time. Scott and Hannah took a tumble on the way down but seemed no worse for the wear. Besides, I might have had the best view in the city right from my hotel room window (below).

Hannah is a big fan of handicrafts, so she felt very at home in Tokat's shops. Tokat has been a craft-producing center for centuries. Along with hammered and engraved copper wear, Tokat specialized in hand-pressed textiles (yazmaları), which were turned into headscarves and table cloths. According to some accounts that I have read, Tokat was the exclusive producer and purveyor of these pressed textiles for much of the Ottoman period. The technique involves soaking cotton cloth in linden tree bark to soften the material, steeping indigo dye or dyer's weed, and stamping with hand carved wood molds for patterning. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure how it works. I will have to check out the factory that produces them in Tokat when I visit one more time in June.

Buyers be ware. Most of the textiles you see in the shop will not have been made the old-fashioned way; they will have been printed out by computer. Ask explicitly for real thing. Typically, the real articles will not have finished ends, as local customers wish to personalize them by hand-crocheting. At the shop where we purchased Hannah's yazmaları, the shopkeeper was kind enough to have a tailor sew off the seams.

On Monday, I let Scott and Hannah sleep in at the hotel as I visited the history faculty at Gaziosmanpaşa University. I spent most of the morning discussing sources and methods with Dr. Mehmet Mercan (standing, right) and Dr. Mehmet Beşirli (seated, left). In the picture to the right, they are joined by Dr. Ali Açıkel (standing, left) and Dr. Ali İbrahim Savaş (seated, right). They all have been very generous with their time and advice, despite having rigorous course loads. I was able to visit Zekeriya only briefly on Sunday night. He treated Scott, Hannah, and I to some sinfully rich pistacchio baklavas.

Late Monday morning, Hannah, Scott, and I took a day-trip to Zile, a major town an hour to the west of Tokat. Zile (ancient Zela) was the place where Julius Caesar declared, "Vedi, Vini, Vici!" ("I came, I saw, I conquered!") after a victory. In Zile, we took in the views from the castle citadel, made snow balls, took photos of the watchman's Kangal dog and its pups (a local breed, as Joe and Kathy Houzner well know), and enjoyed a good mousakka in town for lunch. Other than that, there was not a lot to see or do in Zile, at least within walking distance. We returned to Tokat that night.

Tuesday morning we moved on to Niksar, another town in Tokat Province. The road descended into the valley of Niksar precipitously, and as soon as we left the minibus, we became warm. The moderate Black Sea winds affect Niksar's climate. The town, tightly packed into the valleys around the citadel summit, was pleasant and well maintained. The castle on the citadel was huge and well kept as a park and picnic area. Niksar was the capital of the Danishmend Emirs, who were prominent in the area before the Ottoman expansion into east Anatolia. The recently restored Danishmend-era mosque is very un-Ottoman in style with its heavy columns and walls and lack of the domed focal point.

Our final stop, Amasya, was perhaps the most spectacular, although Tokat charmed Scott and Hannah. Amasya has a long ancient past, emphasized by the Hellenistic-era Pontic tombs carved into the steep stone cliffs above the city. However, I think they are best viewed from the promenade running along the Yeşilırmak River below, as now only grafitti ornaments them. And, Scott strikes a pose:

Amasya was also the hometown of the great Roman-era historian and geographer Strabo. And, John strikes a pose:

Amasya was an imperial Ottoman city as well, a base from which crown prince sultans were tutored in war (generally with Persia to the east) and in statecraft. Fine mosques, medreses, and imarethanes (soup kitchens and and other public edifices) from the late Seljuk and early Ottoman periods line the busy streets of the south bank.

However, I think it is the well-preserved Ottoman houses that everyone comes to see. The Ottoman houses on the north bank of the river are alternately good restorations or faithful reproductions. They hang over a stone wall that braces against swift currents by means of support beams. We listened to local music and had a fine fish dinner in one of them.

Amasya is a jewel and a good example of what faithful restoration and preservation can do for a local tourist economy.

Hannah, Scott, and I returned exhausted late Wednesday night, and I sent them off to do some more exploring in Istanbul on Friday. Back to the routine for me.

Görüşmek Üzere,

jkbinturkey