On cats, marathons (and much else)

 Another week in Izmir has passed. We have been asking ourselves what has changed since our first visit; and the answer is not much, apart from the price rises, given the high rate of inflation. But there is not much evidence of increased poverty; there seem to be few beggars, though they may have been moved on by the police – of whom there are plenty. There also seem to be more Turkish flags around each year. There has been a lot of new building – some to replace buildings damaged in an earthquake a few years ago. So the view from the chaplain’s apartment, facing east, is more of tower blocks (and a new football stadium), and less of the hills which surround the city; our view of the sunrise is less dramatic! The city is as noisy and busy as ever, and the new electric scooters are a pest. And there are more cats, but fewer dogs, on the streets – presumably because the latter are castrated.

Some things which were strange at first now seem quite normal: having to order large flasks of drinking water to be delivered; the disposal of household refuse (of all sorts) in large containers on some street corners – fortunately there are two close to the flat. Emptying the contents seems to be left to individuals – some, we suspect, refugees – who have to sift out anything that can be recycled, and dispose of everything else; not a job I would like!

We’ve enjoyed our trips by vapur across the bay, and the good tram system. It was lovely to meet up with Şeyma, who lives in Izmir, and whom Jo taught in Exeter more than 25 years ago, for a beer and some food. Also, walking by the Aegean in the morning, before queuing at the bakers for gevreks (a sort of sesame covered bagel) taken straight from a fiery oven by a skilled baker; and meeting some friendly and helpful people in restaurants and at supermarket checkouts – some of them speaking much better English than my feeble Turkish.

What has been most enlightening at St John’s has been meeting a number of university students who have become, or are becoming, Christians. One shared a very appropriate quotation from St Augustine in a Bible Study. And three or four others have met with us for coffee after Sunday lunch to ask informed and challenging questions about our faith. I met with another, recently baptised, who wanted to make his confession, showing a real sensitivity about the life of prayer. It is rare to have similar experiences of awareness among young people in England. And we continue to appreciate the mixture of nationalities and languages at the church.

There have been some lighter moments. Being recognised in the street by Cleopatra, the ‘church cat’, was nice – on Sunday she spent most of the Eucharist asleep on the clergy chair in the sanctuary; we did once see Henrietta (the ‘church office cat’ – she likes to sit on the printer!) on the doorstep on the British Consulate, and wondered if she was going to ask for asylum.

Last Sunday, we discovered that the Izmir marathon was routed past the church. This meant that the trams and buses that most of the congregation depend on were not running – and nobody seemed to have been aware of this event beforehand (local publicity is poor!) At 10 o’clock there were about eight people in the church (three of them being police and other officials who were keeping watch on the streets and saw the open door!) But in the end we had a healthy-sized congregation (about 30 people); two of the police stayed for half the service.

 I started to type this, as the adhan (the call to prayer, repeated five times  day) was broadcast through loudspeakers on the mosques. This afternoon, we had explored Kemeraltı, the traditional bazaar area, with narrow alleys, several mosques and hans (former inns for travellers – caravanserais.) We found a friendly café (bizarrely called Daisy Café!) which served a good sweet Turkish coffee, with small cubes of Turkish delight.

 The chaplain is at present leading a pilgrimage in central Türkiye; he returns on Saturday, when we move to the local Ibis hotel. I will preach on Sunday – and we fly home to the UK on Tuesday. If you pray, please pray for easy journeys for us.

Back in Izmir

 We’ve already been in Izmir for ten days, but we’ve been quite busy. The first five days we stayed in temporary accommodation, as Fr James the chaplain, was still in his apartment. But we have now moved in – and it’s all very familiar! As is Izmir, and St John’s – though, as always, there are some new members whilst others have moved on.

I've preached twice; on our first Sunday Fr James celebrated. The congregation are fairly easy to preach to, though it is quite a big building, so the congregation of 25-30 are  bit spread out. And for at least half of those attending, English is a second or third language, which can be a bit of a challenge! That’s one reason liturgical worship is preferable, as it becomes familiar for all the congregation, who can understand what is being said and done. It’s encouraging that there are a number of new young Turkish men and women attending quite regularly; we met with a couple of them on Sunday after church – and had some interesting conversations.

 We arrived at the end of Ramadan, and the beginning of the Eid/Bayram holiday, which has been extended to over a week. Most supermarkets and restaurants stayed open, but the streets were quieter in the morning, and public transport much busier for the latter part of the day, as people took advantage of the good weather and the holiday, together with free transport on a couple of the days. We’ve only had one full day off, and went to a lovely spot on the bay to the south of the main city. Most of the many picnic tables were occupied by families enjoying picnics of various complexities (some had portable stoves to brew the tea without which most Turkish meals are incomplete. The atmosphere was relaxed and convivial; there is little rowdiness or anti-social behaviour.

 Apart that is, from the increased number of electric scooters and bicycles which come at one from most directions. Izmir is a large and busy town, and the local area has narrow roads, along which many large cars and countless scooters and bikes weave their way. The scooters are rented by the hour, and then apparently abandoned all over the place. One is always looking over one’s shoulder to see what is coming (the scourge of electric motors is that they are silent!) It seems to be a matter of honour for drivers not to use their indicators – and it is rare for a driver to slow down to allow pedestrians to cross the road. If you stand back you will not be thanked in anyway. Walking in Devon one almost invariably greets those one passes with at least a smile, and usually a good morning. But here – and this may be equally true of English cities – there is little eye-contact.

 It is good to be back here; my understanding of Turkish is still depressingly poor, but we seem to get by. Outwardly, the economy seems much the same, but the country has experienced massive inflation over the past couple of years, and prices have risen. We’re barely affected, because the exchange rate has also changed – we get around 5 or 6 times as many lira to the pound as we did in 2016. There have been political changes too; President Erdoğan is still in power, but his country-wide support has lessened. In other ways his control may have increased; there seem to be more police in evidence, and life is more difficult for most refugees and asylum seekers. But for most people, life goes on. We always feel safe and comfortable when out in the streets, apart from the litter which is ubiquitous, on land and in the sea.

 This is a shorter visit than usual. Perhaps that’s not a bad thing, as we are a little slower and less energetic than we were 8 years ago. But we always have a warm welcome at St John’s, and feel almost part of the furniture. We’ve had a couple of sessions, listening to and praying with some church members. In addition, there is a weekly Evening  Prayer on line, and a Bible Study which gathers some to the church office, whilst others follow on Zoom. It seems we still have something to offer, which is good. Pray for the rest of our time here, that we can make good use of it.