Visiting Atatürk's legacy

Thanks to the research that I volunteered to undertake prior to our visit to Istanbul, I arrived as mentally prepared as I think any person can be before entering a nation and a culture that few people can claim to be highly familiar with.

By all means, I am not positing that Turkey is a country safely hidden in Europe's backwater, or that Mustafa Kemal Atatürk's creation holds great undiscovered secrets unknown to man anno 2010. I am merely saying that this nation of some 72 million people, despite its enduring popularity as a tourist magnet, still comes across as very different from multicultural European states; and that much time and patience is required on the part of anyone intent on fully savouring the distinct Turkish 'soul'.

LEAVING THE BEATEN TRACK

Our approach in this mini-quest to get to know Turkey, was at least in part highly idiosyncratic. Yes, we saw Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque, and we shopped in the ever exotic Grand Bazaar dating from 1461. We even cut a slice of that experience called '(almost) dining at the Orient Express cafe', an afternoon whim that truly convinced us that the sun has indeed set on this entrance to a feted railroad 'must see'. But none of these were treats anywhere off the beaten track. What made our trip so special, to some of us, was the Friday night soccer game between Besiktas and Gencerbirligi, and Saturday's brief but unforgettable brush with the vilified and persecuted community of Christians in Istanbul. Let's deal with the game first:

Football is a game that I've loved since early childhood. Never conspicuously talented myself, I've yet found time and opportunity to treat myself to some unforgettable moments in front of the tv set, and on rare occasions I've even watched a fixture live from the not too luxurious stands that circle most Norwegian soccer pitches. But I knew that watching this game would be a very different cup of tea as Turkish fans are notoriously 'rowdy'. The lovers of all things Besiktas proved no different.

TURKISH DELIGHT: BESIKTAS VS. GENCERBIRLIGI

Arriving by tram and by foot, once inside the stadium we unwittingly formed a tiny Scandinavian colony in a sea of symphonically chanting, boisterously energetic Besktas die-hards. The white and black clad crowd appeared almost as a distinct life form, its movements undulating and synchronized responses to the action that took place in the pitch. Within few minutes, a couple of Istanbul born and breds had pieced together our true identity, which annoyed me slightly - as our trip to Turkey almost coincided with the publication of the ill-famed drawings of the prophet Muhammad in a major Norwegian daily.

My initial fears soon wore off, as our Turkish friends, decidedly inebriated but friendly, initiated us into their brotherhood rituals. And as the home side continued to pour in goals, we were able to part donning convincing and enduring grins of relief and enjoyment. Besiktas 4 Gencerbirligi 1.

The atmosphere surrounding this biweekly drama was truly wonderful with clamorous vendors accosting us at every turn, throngs of fans lining the streets before and after the game, and the generous helpings of the crisp February air accompanying us throughout.

FEW AND FAR BETWEEN

Istanbul is a dizzyingly sprawling megacity with a rapidly growing multimillion population, its history as rich and meltingpot-like as befits as city that dates back in excess of 3000 years. From AD 330 to 1453, called Constantinople, it boasted an unchallenged status as capital of Christendom, as Istanbul it has played its lingering role as one of islam's key centres. Today, 3000 mosques still exist within the city limits, but despairingly few churches.

Less than 4000 Turks belong to so-called Evangelical churches and fellowships. On Saturday we had opportunity to meet some of these brave believers together with their ethnically mixed 'brothers and sisters'. Our group of 23 automatically doubled attendance as we entered the tiny sanctuary, really only a sparsely decorated room in what looked more like an office block. Our principal greeted our hosts, briefly explaining the purpose of our trip to Istanbul, and, invited by Finnish-born pastor Matti, we later led a badly rehearsed spate of worship that seemed to encourage our fellow believers enormously.

CHANGING YOUR RELIGION

Changing your religion in any Muslim country is a hugely risky business, so we were confident that hypocrisy was far removed from the lives of the likes of Niyazi, a gentle but anything but dour disciple of Jesus. Leaving the legalistic clutches of Islam six years ago, this rare ethnic believer relayed to us his consuming passion for the advancement of the gospel in his home country. They certainly constitute a miniscule minority as of now, but Niyazi and Matti may just well find themselves immersed in work a few years from now - if God will let the genuine Kingdom of Heaven break out among Atatürk's posterity.

Leaving them behind was not easy. Leaving Istanbul cannot ever be easy. Leaving Turkey can never be forever. Its pull is too enduring.