The folks at Ali's in Egirdir recommended me Mustafa's Pansiyon at Konya, and had told Mustafa over the phone of my arrival. They gave me a pile of their business cards and asked me to hand them to Mustafa.
Given my good experience at Ali's,
Mustafa's place turned out be a disappointment:
He picked me up at the bus station by taxi,
and later asked me to pay him back;
the room was more expensive than what I was told at Egirdir;
and the shared bathroom wasn't exactly clean.
A group of youngsters oversaw the pansiyon.
I had no doubt they were honest people though.
At the pansiyon, I also met
two Californian girls, whom I'd meet again and
spend sometime with in Istanbul.
Konya is known to be the most religious and conservative city
in the country.
It's the home of Mevlana,
a thirteenth-century mystic
whose thought reshaped the Turkish Islamic culture.
He advocated dance and music, monogamy, tolerance of unbelievers,
and a host of other heterodox doctrines.
His tomb is housed in the Mevlana Museum,
the major tourist site in the city.
The museum is one of the only two places throughout my Middle East
trip that charged locals and foreigners different entrance fees.
(The other place is Petra in Jordan.)
In many ways the museum is more like a mosque. For example, as in mosques, shoes and shorts are not allowed, and in addition, women must cover their heads. In the museum, you can find among other things many tombs, musical instruments, and a hair from Prophet Mohammed's beard, which is worshipped by many believers. Don't expect to learn a lot about Islam though: Exhibits are not well explained in English.
A little bit of history:
The modern Turkey is largely due to Atatürk,
the father of the country
who transformed Turkey almost single-handedly.
He overthrew the Ottoman Empire,
introduced democracy,
secularized the state,
gave women more rights, and
replaced the Arab script with a Latin one,
gradually making Turkey more associated with Europe than
with the Middle East.
Even though religion is de-emphasized by the government,
most of the Turks are (or consider themselves) Muslims.
And in case you're not sure,
Islam is the religion,
and Muslims are the believers;
that is,
Islam and Muslims are not two religions.
Konya is not a major tourist spot,
so naturally foreigners get a lot of attention
(as if they did not get enough attention elsewhere in Turkey).
This is the place where I first felt the burden of the Turks' hospitality.
I always had trouble walking a few hundred meters without being
interrupted by locals.
Some of them are truly interested in you and will treat you to tea or snacks.
Others want to practice their English with you.
But in any case, they never forget to try to sell their carpets.
Kandil is a cousin of Mustafa, who invited me to tea at Kandil's carpet shop, very close to the pansiyon. We started with some casual chats, and soon got into the discussion of carpets. Kandil explained to me the distinctions between carpets, kilims, sumaks, and cicims, between artificial and natural dyes, between handwoven and machine-woven carpets, etc. I showed genuine interest, which I later regretted: Their hardselling gradually turned more aggressive. I finally gave in and bought a small kilim (kilims are simple, thin carpets without the fluff). I didn't mind buying a souvenir, but I had been warned that the best selection and deal are found in the coastal resort areas instead of the production areas. (I still don't know whether my purchase was a good deal; nor do I want to find out.) Now I had to haul the kilim to other cities while I could have bought one right before I left the country instead. Carpets and kilims weigh quite a bit, and when you're carrying your own backpack, every ounce counts.
I stayed for only one night in Konya, and
was the only passenger on the large bus to
Cappadocia.
(There were two drivers!)
You may go back to my travel page, or
for others photos I took, check out
my photo portfolio.