Apple tea and tales of Turkish ruins: Sunday in Konya

Sunday is not a day of rest for the women folk in rural Turkey. So many were hard at work in the fields as we were driving this morning.

Even on a Sunday

At one stop we came across a lovely old man collecting fresh mountain spring water from a community well beside the road using his donkeys as transport. This is likely his only source of drinking water.

Old man and his donkeys

He was happy for us to take a photo before he headed off on his rustic route, back home into the hills.

Rickety but roadworthy

We drove into Konya, a heavily populated city, but very windy today, and coated in a pall of dust. Practically every road, in and out of the city, is being rebuilt. The work is phenomenal and extensive, but it is creating this heavy layer of dust hanging in the air that you can taste on your tongue. Plastic bags and paper litter from the sides of roads were being lifted by the wind until they were hooked onto fences around the city. Not at all appealing. It gave the city a third world aspect, and litter is something the Turks really have to begin to deal with, as they are certainly not the world’s best at picking up their trash and roadside rubbish.

The further in to the city we went Konya revealed itself more as a city of parks and mosques. There are mosques on practically every block: some of them very beautiful. Which is understandable, as this city, once the capital of the Sultanhate of Rum, is still the heart of conservative Sufiism. This is where the Whirling Dervish religion had its roots. The founder, Rumi, buried here, is as revered today as he was back in the 13th century when he became the leading light of the city with his poetry and religious philosophy.

Minarets all over the skyline

Along with thousands of others, mainly Turkish visitors, we visited the tomb of Rumi in his elaborate mausoleum. His body lies under a green dome, and is covered in rich brocade decorated in gold thread. Mausoleums for his father and other family members surround him and various spaces contain many elaborate gifts from various visiting Sultans throughout the ages.

Rumi's elaborate mausoleum.
His headpiece on the brocade.

We visited the neighbouring lodge for Rumi’s apostolate, the Whirling Dervishes, which is now a museum of their life and times containing Dervish prayer rugs, musical instruments, clothes and gilded books of poetry and prayer, some in the most exquisite calligraphy.

Practicing the sema, the trance dance

The Matbah, or the kitchen, was the centre of the lodge, and where their food preparation and training took place. New candidates to the Dervish order would spend three days, here, on a rug, observing the efforts that went on in the Matbah in order to decide if they really wanted to continue their vocation. If they were successful, they then spent a further 1001 days in training to become a Dervish.

Dining at the lodge

They lived and died within the confines of the Dervish rule. Their small cells, sometimes shared two apiece, surrounded the courtyard and had floor kilims and sofa beds for sleeping, thinking, studying, praying and storage.

Praying using large round beads in his cell

There were different duties as they progressed through the ranks of the order. One of the lodge members was in charge of this lovely velvet purse embellished with gold and pearls holding the key to the gates of the tomb of Rumi. This he would wear round his neck on special religious holidays and Fridays.

Key to the tomb gates is in the purse

In death, the Dervish were buried in the nearby cemetery, close to Rumi.

Dervish cemetery

The only hill in town is a massive artificial mound specially constructed during the Selçuk period so that the Selçuk nobles might build their homes high and look down upon their city. Today was a Sunday and the park and streets of the downtown were filled with crowds of people, hundreds upon hundreds, walking, sitting on the grass, visiting the mosques, picnicking, all very provincial still, all with their backs to the wind.

Crowds of traditionally dressed visitors everywhere

We treated ourselves to lunch at the Konak Konya, a renowned restaurant that has been written up in many international gourmet magazines as being one of the best in the region, its service second to none. We could only manage two courses, as it was all so filling, the first being their famed soups. I tried their traditional yoghurt soup made with yoghurt, flour, rice, chickpea and mint, which had fried butter drizzled over the top. The others ordered the gombo, or wedding soup, that looked like a spicy tomato soup with dried gombos added, which we have not seen or heard of before. These gumbos were shaped like tiny gum nuts, but had the texture of soft lentils, and were cooked with mince, onion and butter.

Gourmet soups

We then had an assortment of roasted lamb with aubergine, another lamb dish with roasted bread chunks, used often in peasant cuisine, and whole spicy roasted onions and peppers and tomatoes for a salad. No wine, of course, as Konya is a dry town and no alcohol is served. Everything was delicious and they looked after us so well and all for the princely sum of $AUD8 per person. Extraordinary.

Delicious mains

We spent much of the afternoon in the hill park with more crowds of people visiting the Alaeddin Mosque, another Selçuk mosque featuring wooden poles, and we are becoming quite a fan of the wood and stone combination of this Selçuk architecture.