The Wild Wild East, Part 3: Sivas and Divrigi

This is the last installment of my adventures in Northeast Anatolia. From Kars, I wanted to go directly south and travel to a city called Dogabeyazit so I could see the Isaac Pasa Palace and Mt. Ararat. Luckily, I had the presence of mind to check my Lonely Planet only to discover that the palace  was closed on Mondays, which was the only day I could go. Rats! I did not, however, want to go back to Erzurum and sit around for a day, waiting to give my talk. I wanted to make the most of my time out east. So, sitting in a hotel room in Kars, I totally re-planned the last half of my trip in about half an hour.

I ultimately decided to go to Sivas, which was actually kind of a psychotic decision considering that I was four hours east of Erzurum, my home base, and Sivas is six hours WEST of Erzurum. It meant that I would spend a lot of free time on a bus, but like I said, I just couldn't waste the little time I did have.  And for this part of the trip I was alone, which made traveling by the seat of my pants (normally not my M.O.) all the more crazy. I was on a bus for approximately ten hours, which put me into Sivas at 10 PM. I hopped on a minibus into the center of town and found myself a hotel room. Out of morbid curiosity, I opted to stay in the Madimak Hotel, which has a very dark past. In 1993, a mob of radical Islamists set fire to the hotel, where several Alevi intellectuals had gathered for a cultural conference in Sivas. Alevis are considered a religious sect of Islam, and they are often associated with the Bektashis, the order of dervishes I am studying right now. The mob's intended target was the Turkish translator of Rushdie's "The Satanic Verses." Unfortunatley, 37 people died in the fire, and the hotel was burned to the ground. The hotel is rebuilt now, I believe on the same site as the original. I was psyching myself out, expecting grisly accommodations, but the staff was helpful and friendly, the lobby bright and cheery, and my room huge and cheap! After tiring myself from jumping on the bed, I decided to go to sleep for my big day in Sivas.

The next morning, I got up bright and early to look at some serious Seljuk architecture. The Seljuks were a dynasty originally from Iran who lived in Anatolia before the Ottomans hit it big. They tend to have nice blue tiles and crazy stucco molding. I saw this sweet calligraphy executed in a style I would call "strawberry bush" (right), and a pretty dramatic madrasa, or theological school (below).  While wandering around, it began to snow pretty hard, making me long for Boston. As I braved the snowflakes whizzing through the air to take pictures of my mosques and madrasas, I reflected just how much I really wanted to be committed to Seljuk architecture.


After wandering around Sivas in the morning, I headed over to the minibus terminals that ply routes out to all of the small mountain villages surrounding Sivas. I climbed into a van headed for Divrigi, a very small and remote mountain village that just so happens to be a UNESCO world heritage site because it has a really nice mosque (right). The mosque is not all that exciting on the inside, but what gets this place on the list is the insane entrance portal, which is a great example of some local rich guy who had more money and ego than taste. The ride to the village was interesting. I was sitting next to this Turkish woman older than Moses, who informed me that she had fallen and broken her wrist, and she had to come into Sivas from her village to go to the hospital. I expressed concern for her health to which she exclaimed, "My dear, I kiss you!" I thought she was speaking figuratively until I saw her going in for my cheek. I realized that it was actually going down, stuck out my cheek, and she planted a big one on my face. Since we had kind of bonded about five minutes into a 3 hour trundle through the mountains, I entertained her by taking pictures of the scenery and then showing the results on my camera screen. 

When we got out at Divrigi, which is home to maybe a few thousand people, I was thrown out into the general market area. When I got out of the van pretty much every person on the street turned and looked at me, mouths agog. The people in this area make their living by shepherding, and I guess they don't get a lot of tourists. I yelled to the general crowd "Hi there! Could anyone perhaps point me to your mosque??" which is probably not the first thing they expected to hear either. Someone gestured up the hill, where I found the large building pretty quickly. Unfortunately in Sivas I had eaten some suspicious kebab for lunch and it was not sitting well with me after a 3 hour bumpy ride through mountains. So I discreetly ran behind the mosque and booted, meaning that I can officially say that I have thrown up on a UNESCO world heritage site, something my boyfriend suggests I should not be proud of. I was disappointed to find the mosque and the connected hospital closed, but I figured that the best part were the doors anyway so I started clicking away. Then the call to prayer sounded, and I peeked around the corner to see an old man walk up to the door and unlock it. I wrapped my scarf around my head and snuck in after him, dodging down a side aisle and just sitting next to a huge column. It was nice listening to the prayers; they were very beautiful. I waited until they were done praying and then I started taking pictures of the inside, which was kind of dark and spooky. While I was photographing the minbar one of the men wandered up to me and asked me in English if I wanted him to show me the hospital as well. I told him I would be delighted and he took me over there, which actually resembled the medical hospital Ceylan and I saw in Edirne. I mentioned this to my guide, who was a little surprised that I had an idea of comparitive hospital structures in Anatolia. At that point he felt the need to present me with a coffee mug witht the building screened onto the side. "We don't get many people here, and I think you will like this," he said. It was a really sweet gesture, and then he insisted that I spend the night with his family. He promised food, family, and a huge Alevi celebration in my honor. I was really really sad to tell him that I had to get back to Erzurum for my talk the next morning, but at least we had tea and pastries before I left.