The call to prayer. Resounding. Collective. Holy Remembering. Marking Another Day of Bless’d Life. Breathing in and out, in the Mystery of Whatever. NBD.
First bread/pide of ramadan eve, known as ramazan pidesi
KONYA, the most important stop for me... going to meet the Friend... stardust vapor ether, we have been told so many lies... deep songs from the bleeding womb are the women's prayer spaces, we keeping covered to keep them close and macerating before singing them out in hopes of being drunk by one in need
Bus from Konya to Cappadocia... eschewed the hot air balloon rides for long walks and sunsets and trancing out in an old cave church for a few hours... and ayran, salty yogurt drink, lots of ayran
But I very much loved the pottery town of avanos, up past main tourist streets was a spring and some homesteads and maybe a couple studios where the pottery is still made the slow n old way... on way back down, tried some cappadocia-grown mulled wine and the cold desert air scraped at my now-sweetened thirsty heart
Ending in Istanbul again... kitties in mosques, coffee/kahve and walnuts and dates and pomegranate flowers and rose/gul water/su and and hidden sufi tekkes shown by a philosopher-stranger turned friend, and hammam of the heart and bosphorus seagulls and tasteless fish sandwiches with bones and a young roommate from tunisia teaching lessons about men... a whirlwind that I am still processing
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