Two sides

Yea, there are two strongly opposing sides in Turkish politics too. It seems to me to be a little less obvious, though. Ankara is the capitol. Ataturk's (the father of Turkey) mausoleum is here. The people around me tend to fall toward the nationalist side. But I read articles like this and it's evident that there is some all too familiar anger that runs deep. People back home ask me to explain that conflict that exists here and I don't know how to explain it because I don't fully understand it. Maybe people who live further east have a better grasp than I do. I found this article (click the title above for the link) to fill some holes still leaving many.

Bursa

It was one of my typical walk-abouts in a new city. Wander around, get lost and see where I end up. Started in a nice residential area passing fellow pedestrians, bus stops and front yards. I always have an idea of my general direction, usng my inner "force" to keep me pointed that way. After about 30 minutes my force had lead me into what looked like the trash compactor. Basically light-industrialand where I was clearly the only female droid wandering where she shouldn't have been. I'm just glad the sun was up.

I found my way back to the main thoroughfare and followed the street signs to the "staydium." even back in light-industrialand green and white flags were waving everywhere. As I got closer to the stadium, even the people were covered in green and while. Could Bursa be the Irish enclave of Western Anatolia? Would have been funny, but no. The futbol team, Bursaspor, is apparently on a hot streak and are in a positi

on to win a league trophy - their colors are green and white.

My path then moved to the central shopping mall, Starbucks, Zara and massive electronics stores. Since my location had me places on my Loney Planet map, I knew exactly which direction to head for my real tourist goal of the day. Less than ten meters in the right direction and I spotted to my left the cave-like entrance to the covered Grand Bazarr of Bursa. Much like the Bazarr in Istanbul, there were avenues branching off in all directions each specializing in its own good - elegant gold and silk, practical produce and spices and nock-off shoes, bags and gaudy ball gowns. Brilliant!

It wasn't hard to find the other central attraction to the area - the Ulu Camii (mosque). I usually hesitate to enter into the smaller Camii simply because they seem too sacred for a non-muslim invader. There were plenty of uncovered women and back-pack clad tourist-types walking in and out for me to feel safe to enter. I followed etiquette by taking off my shoes at the door and wrapping my scarf over my head. I entered into what seemed to be mother/child day of prayer. Sure, some men were up front where the women aren't allowed, but the majority of the people in there were the women and children sitting on the carpet and simply enjoying their time together in this sanctuary.

The battle of 1389 that occured in Kosovo between the Ottomans, Albanians, Serbs and other Balkan lands is written in the text books of each nation with special significance to each. What I believe they all agree with is the outcome - the Ottomans won the battle, but lost their leader. Sultan Murat I was killed in this battle and a memorial for him exists on the spot in Kosovo which happens to be about 10 feet from where I taught at the journalism school there. His tomb and a mosque in his name exist today in Bursa and I obviously had to pay my respects. Next I need to find out where Murat I was born so I can complete my accidental path that follows this guy's life.

It was a whole lot of walking in the wrong direction but I eventually hit all the highlights of this historic little town. On the taxi ride back to my hotel my inner force realized how badly I had missed the easy way around. Never-the-less, my young jedi skills always get me there eventually.