Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

I want to sing......

@brittarnhild

Sude Konak hotel is situated close to Gülhane Park. Spending a week with a group means that I am hungry not only for food, drinks and sleep, but also for solitude, time for myself, time to sort my thoughts. Gülhane Park turned out to be my sanctuary.

Parrots in the trees, Asik Veysel´s music, a medicinal garden, sun, a warm wind, sweet apple tea. These memories will follow me. 

End of August in Turkey is not the best time for flowers, still, Ibn Sina Garden could offer what I needed. Medicine plants are often like that, able to cure your deepest needs.

A tiny, blue flower, an icon painted by God. A tiny, blue flower, an icon set before my eyes to steady my feet, to rest my soul, to give my heart peace.

Apple tea, words, music.
Hoe perfevct they walk hand in hand.

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I am back home. Unpacking, washing clothes, living my blessed every day life.
And all through this a Turkish week plays in my heart.

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Thinking of you is pretty, hopeful, 
It is like listening to the most beautiful song 
From the most beautiful voice on earth... 
But hope is not enough for me any more, 
I don't want to listen to songs any more, 
I want to sing.

a poem by Asik Veysel 

 

His All Holiness Patriarch Bartholomew

@brittarnhild

Traveling officially, for work, means a lot of meetings, which of course again means less time for sightseeing. It has a huge advantage though, you get experiences you will never have as a tourist.

Like an audience with the ecumenical Patriarch, His All-Holiness Bartholomew, who is also known as The Green Patriach.

I took part in a sailing along the coast of Norway with His Holiness 10 years ago, the aim was to focus on nature conservation and sustainability. I was impressed by His Holiness then, and I still am today.

Over in Books in the Menu you can read about one of His Holiness´books.

Danke für jeden neuen Tag

@brittarnhild

I woke up this morning with a song playing in my heart. The words are Germen, I  have no idea why, but may be because I usually sing it in German when I sing it for myself. The song is translated into Norwegian, and probably into a lot of other languages as well.

I am sure the song has to do with the afternoon and night I had yesterday.
So let me tell you about it:

When, many months ago, I knew that I was going to Istanbul, I contacted Pinar, a woman who has read my blog for more than seven years. At once Pinar started to plan what she wanted to show me, do together with me in her city.

Yesterday she was waiting for me in our hotel when we came back from an audience with His All Holiness the Ecumenical Patriarch (more about that later). At once we jumped into a taxi, they have happy, bright, yellow taxies here in Istanbul, just like the cabs in New York, and our adventure started.

It will be impossible to tell you all we did, but after a visit to Pera Museum, where we, among other thins, saw a photo exhibition from the riots at Taksim Square, and a television footage about Osmans Hamdi Bey´s painting The Turtle Raiser, we walked over to Pura Palace Hotel. The famous hotel where people traveling with The Orient Express took in, and where Agatha Christie wrote Murder on the Orient Express.

"I want to take you there" Pinar said, "because of the history of the hotel and because they have high style tea there".

Sure they did.
We had turkish coffee, and we shared two desserts between us. And we were in heaven.

We talked about politics. We talked abut our families. We talked about growing up in Istanbul. We talked about blogging. We talked about everything.

Our empty coffee cups had tales to tell, and Pinar read both.

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Our blogging friend night continued. More walking, more visits. More taxies.
And it ended up ina fishing village down on the shores of Bosphoros, where we had our dinner.

Here our sharing of tales continued,
both of us aware that there was, there is an angel between us.

The first post Pinar read in my blog was about and angel, in my empty coffee cup we found an angel.

Pinar, thank you for the most amazing afternoon and night with you.
We´ll meet again, here and in Norway! 

 

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Danke für diesen guten Morgen, 
danke für jeden neuen Tag. 
Danke, dass ich all meine Sorgen auf dich werfen mag.

Danke für alle guten Freunde, 
danke, oh Herr, für jedermann. 
Danke, wenn auch dem größten Feinde ich verzeihen kann. 

Danke für meine Arbeitsstelle, 
danke für jedes kleine Glück. 
Danke für alles Frohe, Helle und für die Musik. 

Danke für manche Traurigkeiten, 
danke für jedes gute Wort. 
Danke, dass deine Hand mich leiten will an jedem Ort. 

Danke, dass ich dein Wort verstehe, 
danke, dass deinen Geist du gibst. 
Danke, dass in der Fern und Nähe du die Menschen liebst. 

Danke, dein Heil kennt keine Schranken, 
danke, ich halt mich fest daran. 
Danke, ach Herr, ich will dir danken, dass ich danken kann.

I want to read more about Chora church

@brittarnhild

I am in Istabul this week for work. The bishop of Nidaros, his 12 deans and the administrative leaders (I am one of them) at the diocese office are having one of their four a year meetings. We have got a meeting room in our hotel, up on the penthouse, with a fantastic veiw to Hagia Sofia one way, Bosphoros the other, sure it can be kind of hard to concentrate ;-) But in between the meetings there are some time off, some time for sightseeing, some time for official visits, and a tiny little bit of time for ones own.

These first days we have had a guide with us,  Sedat Ozseven. His knowledge and willingness to share, together with his friendliness and kind smiles, have given us moments, experiences, days which we will never forget. Thank you Sedat!

Yesterday afternoon Sedat took us to Chora church (chora means outside the city/outside the walls. I had hearn nothing about this church, this gem of Byzantine art, before coming here, somehow noen of the guidebooks I have brought say something about it.

The church was filled with the most beautiful mosaics, telling the story of Mary and Jesus, starting with hjis parents. Here you see Mary´s parents hugging after Mary´s mother got, from an angel,  the good news that she was pregnant.

Here you see Mary taking her first steps :-)

Sedat, a muslim by birth, was guiding a group of very well educated Norwegian theologians. The story of the birth of Jesus, the story we know so well, came out new and fresh though Sedat´s words, and the Chora mosaics.

 

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I am realizing , more and more, that I am in love.
In love with this world and its people.

 

This last photo shows Mary giving birth to Jesus. 

I have bought a book about Hagia Sofia and Chora churches, and can´t wait to learn more....... 

Kapalicarsi, The Covered Market or The Grand Bazaar

@brittarnhild

The Grande Market, the bazaar, Kapalicarsi, opens at 8.30 in the morning. I came a little early, and could, with fascination, watch the workers arriving in masses, being swallowed by the gate. In my guide book I read that there are 4000 shops in the bazaar. 4000! Can you imagine!

I didn´t have any spesific plans for buying anything, I wanted to stroll around to get the feeling of the place, its temperature, its breath, its heart beat.

Being at Kapalicarsi (the word is actually written with a tiny beard under the c and the s, but my dear Mac doesn´t have these letters......) early, meant that the place was still quiet, something which change fast, and the sellers were eager to have their first customer.

"Buy from me" the sellers said, "you will be my first customer of the day. This brings luck so I will give you a very good prize"

And why not? A purple patchwork table runner, a perfect gift to myself for advent.

I don´t know how to bargain. When I buy something I am always leaving the sellers smiling, which means of course that I have payed way to much. But then, I am smiling myself as well, feeling that I have been lucky. So, what´s the problem then :-)

When in bazaars I always look for the spice section. In my kitchen you find pepper from all over the world. Pepper which is used daily in my cooking. But you also find a huge variety of other spices, collected on travels. Spices which looks tempting there and then, but most of them I have no idea how to use.

 

In Kapalicarsi I ended up with Indian saffron, and a variety of teas.

And of c ourse the charming seller gave me the "you are my first customer today very good prize just for you madam"

 

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The Blue Mosque got its name because of its blue tiles.
Granny, Mrs. Steglich and Anne, can you email me your address.

 

Only a photo to show Terje that I am alive :-)

@brittarnhild

No time for blogging today, except for one photo for Terje, to show him that I am still alive ;-)

 

Turkish Coffee

@brittarnhild

We have been sightseeing today. Walking around for hours with a Turkish guide. Fantastic. And too much to share, I have no idea neither where to start, nor where to continue, and at least not where to end........

Breakfast on the hotel terrace where we see right over to Hagia Sofia, a walk by myself, stopping for chai and journal writing, then meeting up with the guide.......Hippodrome, The Blue Mosque, Hagia Sofia, fantastic local lunch of grilled lamb, grilled eggplants and rice, then continuing to Topkapi Palaca where I could have spent days.

 

Completely worn out, I sat down near Bosporos, with a huge glass of rose sherbet. Hoe I love to be completely worn out when I can sit down near Bosporos with a huge glass of lemon sherbet......

Tomorrow, Monday, we will start our meeting. I am just realizing how hard it will be to sit inside in a meeting with this wonderful city all around, waiting for me.......

well, a girl has to do what a girl has to do....... 

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By the way I, do you know why The Blue Mosque is called The Blue Mosque?
Postcard to the first correct answer
....and may be to the second and third as well. 

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By the way II, I have not had any turkish coffee yet,
and I am goinf to write a post over in Books on the Menu to tell why. 

Travel journals

@brittarnhild

  

 

For most of my life I have written travel journals.
Mostly words, but also pictures, drawings, postcards, tickets, bills, pressed flowers, small souvenirs.... 

  

 

Usually I write from one travel, continue in the same book with the next and so on,
but from my London travels I have a special book;
an old travel books, "Walks in London" which I bought a few years ago at an antiquarian. In between the words and the drawings on the book, there is more than enough room for my own words. 

 

 

I am posting this from Schiphol Airport outside Amsterdam. The airport taxi picked me up at 4am this morning. Two hours to Amsterdam, transfer here and soon I am on my way to Istanbul.

 

 

I am starting a new travel journal on this trip. I January I started a new series, Østenfor sol og vestenfor måne, East of the Sun, West of the Moon. Twice in Iceland, once in Nepal, once in Barcelona and the book was full. Today I am starting Østenfor sol og vestenfor måne II.

 

Hopefully I will be able to blog from Istanbul.
Sure I will be able to write my journal.

And one day I will meet a blog reader! Yeah!!

 

 

My sacred icons

@brittarnhild

On a wall in our livingroom I have a small collection of icons, collected though many years. Icons, religious art with a sacred task to show us God.

For me icons are beautiful piece of art, I have no tradition to pray in front of them, to meet my Creator though them, not more than I meet God through everything in my life.

More important in my life, my walk along my Heavenly Father´s path, is nature.
And most of all its small wonders.

John of Damascus, who lived in the 8th century, said that - God himself was the first to paint and display icons.

Nature. Wildlife, spectacular sunsets and sunrises, snow covered mountains in Himalaya, waterfalls along the western coast of Norway, dramatic views in Yosemite.......but even more the small wonders you hardly notice. Like a tiny little blue borago flower wrapped in morning dew.

During my early morning walk I take in its beauty, and The Creator is there with me.

The Never Ending Story

@brittarnhild

School started on Monday and after dinner Marta and I drove over to Staples, a store both of us love. Yes, we love it, but only visit once a year, in connection with a new school year. Jane, last time we visited one, we were with you in California :-)
When we came home to The House in the Woods,  Terje was high up in a ladder, making preparations to cut another tree.

At first I was mad at him "Don´t you know it is crazy to be up in a ladder all by yourself, home alone and everything......."

But soon I was too bjusy photographing to be mad.

And in the end it turned out he had full control.

Of course he had.

Our main task now is to agree what to do with the rest of the trees in the group.
Terje want them cut down. I want them standing, anyway they are where we keep the bird feeders.