December 3, 2010 Visit to Ancestral Village- Milio, Ganohora, Thrace (Turkey)

December 1, 2010, Constantinople/ Istanbul, Turkey

I finally got hold of Panagioti, the authorized tour guide for the Patriarchate and told him I was serious about renting a car and driver to take me to my ancestral village in Thrace.
The names that were known to my family were Ganohora and Milio. I know that Fr Germanos Stavropoulos told me that it was now called Hoşkoy. Through a little research by Panagioti we learned that Ganos was now known as Gazikoy (flat village), Hora was know as Hosköy (enjoyable village) and the village were my family came from, Milio, is now known as Güzelköy (beautiful village).  These two villages of Ganos and Hora were on the Sea of Marmara and Milio up from them. Its like they make a triangle. The whole region was known as Ganohora.

Of course, Panagioti could do nothing without authorization from on high. So I went by the Chancellor’s Office and luckily he was in and I explained that I wanted to go see my ancestral village before I left Turkey, not knowing when I would have the opportunity to do this again. Father Stefanos gave permission for Panagioti to make arrangements and be my interpreter.

So we set a date for the trip two days later trip on December 3.

I was going back to the village were my great-grandparents were forced to leave around 1912-1913 after the region suffered an earthquake. The Ottoman Turkish government thought it best that they inhabitants of the area be forced to leave. Of course, this was beginning of the policy that resulted in the forced exchange of Greeks an Turks in 1922.

In the family history, Yiayia (Grandmother) Yvonne Balasakis said that she and Great Grandmother Efrosini (Frances) came in 1914 and that Yiayia was about 2 years old when they came. The presumption was that Great Grandfather Anastasios Balaskais was already in the US by that time to prepare for their arrival.

Great Grandmother Panayiota Konstantinou arrived at Ellis Island with Daughter Daphne and Son Prodromos (Grandfather Bill) in 1914. In the family history, Great Grandfather is never mentioned as coming to the US.

In the historical record the Population of the Village of Milio was
(1911) 1,130 Greeks and 134 Turks;
(1912) 1,470 Greeks and 0 Turks;
(1913) 193 Greeks and 152 Turks;
(1922) 235 Greeks and 200 Turks
After 1922 – 0 Greeks

And a walk through Riverview Cemetery in Richmond have quite a few residents who were born in Milio. When people came to the US they generally went to places where members of their immediate or extended families were or where some neighbors ended up. Who was the first from Milio or Ganohora to end up in Richmond, Virginia? Who knows?  The fact remains is that the Both sides of Pop’s family ended up in Richmond, Virginia  from the village.

December 3, 2010

PHOTO GALLERY: Milio, Ganahora

We left the Patriarchate in early morning. Panagioti had gotten an Armenian driver (who spoke no English naturally). To communicate I spoke to Panagioti in Greek who translated in Turkish so that the Armenian could understand!  Getting out of Istanbul was no problem but it would be about a 3 hour trip to the Village a little over 200 km away. We had made it to Silivri in Terkidag which to us Greeks is known as Selyvria, the birthplace of Saint Nektarios the Wonderworker.

A little while after Silivri the road suddenly changed from a modern road to a dirt road and just a paved road with no markings. We were on the coast of the Sea of Marmara and a very beautiful sight with all the vegetation and the sea.

Suddenly we were in a very curvy area that was taking us down to sea level. No guardrails or anything of the sort. Just sheer drops to the sea. Yokes!
                               
Eventually we got to sea level and it was a two lane roadway. Heading west, the Sea at our left and the cliffs on the right. Eventually we made it through a small village and in front of us the sign that told us we were on the right track... Like there was another track to follow....
Gaziköy 6 km
Hosköy 10 km

Before long we were at the outskirts of Gaziköy. There was a restaurant right there with the name “Ayiasma” which is Turkish for the Greek “Agiasma” which is “Holy Spring”. We stopped there to see what it was all about. Panagioti has never been to this area and he’s lived in Istanbul all his life and he is always looking for archeological things. And boy did we see a lot of relics from the times that the Greek Orthodox Christians were here. Remnants of tombstones, fonts and other types of marbles. For it to be an agiasma means that there was once a church or chapel built here which is long gone. Probably replaced by this restaurant. I sis go down to the what may have been the spring and yes, there was a pool of water with pipes.

We left a before long we got to the center of the town- the town square and did find another indication of the Greek presence here many years ago.

It does make me wonder why after all these hundred years, our presence in this area has not been totally obliterated. Even in Agia Sophia, the Ottoman Turks could never totally obliterate the fact that it was THE Cathedral of the Orthodox Church.

We got in the care and 4 km later we were in Hosköy. Compared to Gaziköy it was Big City! At least there was some life here. Coffee shops, stores, houses, schools. It seemed as this was the hub of the area. Looking at the historical record there were, in the 1910's around 2,500-3,000 Greeks in Ganos and about the same in Hora.

We were after Güzelköy. Seems that we had missed the turn as we passed the dry river bed. We got back on track and turned up to go to my ancestral village. As we were going up the road I realized that here I was, a descendant of those who were forcibly removed from this area, coming back to my origins, to pay my respects. How many of my unknown ancestors went up and down this road. Who were they? What did they do? How did they live? How many generations lived here? Questions with no answers. All I know it was beautiful going up. Apple trees lined the road. Milio- from the Greek Milo- which is Apple!

Finally we stopped. We were on the outskirts of the village. And saw a small mosque. It wasn’t modern but you can tell that it was pretty old. Was this the mosque of the old village of Milio. After all back then it was a Greek village with a very small Turkish population.

Everything was stone and wood. Stone for walls, stone for houses. Old wood. Walking around I could feel that one gust of wind and all this would be tumbling down. Houses looked like they have been there at least a hundred years with no one coming back to unlock the door. Were they inhabited? Were any of them my family houses. It was very quiet. No one walking around except for one old lady with a cane as she slowly ascended the steep stony path. Could be anyone’s grandmother. Did manage to chuckle though as she was walking she passed a satellite dish. Modernity in the midst of a time machine.

We rode around the village. Not many options where you could go- a lot of stuff crumbling. We saw no one until we came upon the village square- the social point of the village right across the square was a mosque. A pretty modern one. But at the time of the Greeks in this place, it was probably the site of the Church of Saints Theodore. (At least that was the name my Grandmother said it was) .

The village square had about 10 old men around there drinking tea, looking at us kind of funny. I guess not many people just drive up from nowhere. We got out of the car and walked up to the people. Panagioti explained to them in Turkish, of course, that my family had come from this village and that I was visiting from America and wanted to see this area. One by one the old men started to come up and see who I was.  So the men began talking about houses falling apart and falling down, nothing to do but live down in the big city, confirmed that the mosque was were the church used to be and little things like that.

Looking around the square there were not one but two coffee/tea shops. Even a small village like this an there are two coffee shops.  We thought that we had seen and heard all that we would. We had not sat down but I went to all them men there, shook their hands and said “Testicular” which is Turkish for “Thank you!”  Bas soon as I finished with the last one, the first gentlemen who engaged us in conversation, beckoned us to sit down and brought out some tea. We continued to talk and found out he was babysitting his granddaughter and that he was the mayor of the town.

Being “Rum” (Greeks from Asia Minor- Roman) rather than “Yunan” (Greeks frm Greece) is a subtle distinction that I think makes a lot of difference to the Turks.  I feel that the Turks are a little warmer to you when they find out that you are “Rum.”  It means that you are part of the history whether they acknowledge or not.

When I finished my tea, the Mayor took his granddaughter by the hand and beckoned Panagioti and  me to follow him. We went up the rocky path to a building that had 1913 on its stone face. He explained that it was a Greek owned building where they used to make wine and Raki (similar to ouzo). Of course, it was not used for that purpose now. It wasn’t used for anything- it was just there.

Then he led us to a field. It was a peaceful place overlooking the Sea of Marmara.

Whether Panagioti told him or he discovered it himself- he realized that I was a Priest. After all when you’re dressed in a white shirt and black pants and the deference given to you by your translator, you sometimes can put two and two together. 
           
This field contained the origins of half of my DNA.   It was the village Cemetery. The tombstones were taken and used for the walls of the city. Most of the graves were dugs up in decade gone by. Over the years I’m sure the ground was used for other purposes. But the mayor told us, they still dig up bones every once in a while and they accumulate them. When the river runs fast they take them, put them into a sack and let the river take them to the Sea where they dissolve over time.  Looking at it from Western culture it seems barbaric and disrespectful, But looking a this practice its no different from what they do in Greece when for lack of burial space, the exhume the remains, place whatever is left in an box for as long as you pay the fee. And when that stops, they put it in an ossuary until time returns them to dust.   I think that what these folks do is more respectful than just throwing them away in the garbage.

The mayor left us there for a while and I did the memorial for my great-grandfather who was probably buried in this place along with my unknown ancestors. This may have been the first memorial in 90+ years at this very place.  It was very moving.

On the way to the village square, there was a young boy looking through a window. I just had to snap a picture. Will he have a future in this village? Or his destiny elsewhere.

Making it to the Village Square, we said good bye to them and when I tried to pay for the tea, the owner/Mayor refused. Such is hospitality. The only response is a heartfelt “Insallah”= “God willing”

We went back to Hosköy- Hora. We went to the seashore and there was a Wine Butik. We met Cem Cetintas and his wife, Funda. Cem is from Milio and Funda is from Ordu on the Black Sea where my Maternal Grandfather was born and lived until the population exchange in 1922.

There in the shop I looked up and saw of all things “Ganohora” Wine and “Melen” wine. Why would they use these Greek names?  Melen was a more ancient name for Milio. The Thracians had a habit of putting “-io” after names. Yanni would become Yannio- Petro would become Petrio. Melen may have become Meleio which eventually became Milio.

WEBSITE: Melen Winery

The Çetintaş family can trace its roots in Thrace back to the Turkish land owners who came from Konya to Rumelia 500 years ago. Melen or Güzelköy, as it was then known, was synonymous with the cultural values and traditions of their own background.

Ganohora has a recognized history dating from the 1st century; it was a religious center for Christians during the Middle Ages with its many churches and monasteries. In Ganohora alone there were 6 monasteries. In 1955, when the Turkish Treasury auctioned off the site, the Çetintaş family bought it and the ruins of the Monastery of St. Ioannis are now all that remain of the church’s influence in the region today.

The monastery was built by Friar Dionysuis (Kalafatis) in 1865. He built over the remains of an older Byzantine monastery which, although the date of its building has not yet been discovered, is believed to pre-date the conquest of Istanbul (1453). It is known however, that before the Byzantine monastery was built, the land was used as a cemetery during the 5th and 6th centuries. (Ecclesiastical records from the Patriarchate of Constantinople).

The Çetintaşfamily had its own special reason for wanting to acquire the derelict monastery and land. During the disturbed and lawless times of the early 1920s, they received word that one of the gangs roaming the country side intended to attack the Çetintaş house in Melee. Grandfather Ahmet Çetintaş, realizing that he couldn’t defend the house and family, fled to the St. John monastery, believing it to be the safest place around. The family were received and given shelter by the Abbot. That night their house was attached and destroyed. The memory of these events was firmly in Ahmet’s son Hussein's mind when he bought the land from the Treasury.

What was not in the website was that when the Abbot was told to leave the Monastery at the population exchange of 1923, the Çetintaş family returned the favor and sheltered the about

It is now one of Melee Winery’s projects to restore the remains of the Monastery of St. John the Theologian.  They were very generous of their time to show me the remains of the Monastery, the vineyard. Of course, I had to buy wine to give as going away gifts to members of the Patriarchal Court for their friendship and hospitality during my month long sojourn there

November 25- Feast Day of Saint Katherine (and for the next few days)

Once again I was called to celebrate Orthros for the feast of Saint Katherine. There was no liturgy at the Patriarchal Cathedral as the Patiarch was going to St Katherine's for their feast day. I opted to not go along for the service. I needed to vacate my room in one building for a room in the older building on Monday morning so I needed to get somethings packed and also had laundry to do.

Reminds me of being in the seminary when we had to do laundry had to wait in line for the washers and dryers in the basement of Polemankos Hall. Nowdays its washer/ dryer at home. Even so there is one washer and no dryer. The clothes are dried the old fashioned way on lines streched in the stairwell and folding wire racks at the end of the hall. Funny, how we now take even the simplest tasks for granted like drying clothes. We consider a dryer a neccessity not a luxury. Here a dryer is an unnecessary additional expense vis-a-vis electric bill . Forget gas dryers they will be non existent since there are no lines to service them. 

We in the US do consume way to much of nature's resources. Petroleum products are so cheap in the US in order to power our way to huge automobiles. We balk at $3.00 per gallon gas where here it is 3.09 Lira per liter. That works out to $ 11.67 per gallon! We need to become better stewards of what resources we do have (and import). We are all on this planet with others.

The days following St Katherine have been days in preparation for the feast day of St Andrew on November 30. This is the feast day of the Patriarchate as its apostolic founder is considered to be St Andrew, the first called. This is a big day for the Patriarchate as they welcome and official delegation from Rome (as we send an official delegation to Rome on their feast day in June). The Roman Catholic Archbishop of San Francisco who is travelling with Metropolitan Gerasimos on a Pilgrimage to Rome, Athens and Constantinople, will be seated with the official Vatican delegation.

In the meantime, Fr Nifon of the English Office has returned to the Patriarchate and is getting back to work after being away for about a month. He has to come back to the United States every so often as per his Turkish visa. My visa is good for multiple trips with in the next 120 days. Unfortunately if I come back sometime with Metropolitan Gerasimos who is going to be part of the next Synod beginning March 1, 2011, my visa will have to be renewed.

November 24- Taksim Square

In my mind there is a difference between Constantinople and Istanbul. The old part of the City which was fortified by the walls that held off invasions for hundreds of years until it fell in 1453 will always be Constantinople. Even during the Ottoman Empire the city was called Constantinople. The first couple of Sultans considered themselves successors to the Roman Emperors when they conquered the City but the rest of the world disagreed with them. The City was also known as "Stamboul", "Stambouli" and "Istanbul" from the Greek "Εις την Πόλιν"- "To the City." Modern Istanbul is in the area called Beyoğlu in the old Pera  (Greek for "far") district of Constantinople across the Golden Horn.


After services today I went with a couple of the people from the Patriarchate to a palced down one of the side streets for some Turkish food and ended at a Kebap place. I had my taste of some real Turkish food. It seemed a seedy street but sometimes the diamonds are defintiely in the rough. This was one of the cases. But more than anything else it was an opportunity to see some of the personnel of the Patriarchate in a more relaxed atmosphere- if you can call going out in suit and tie- relaxed.

It may be a good thing that I haven't really gone out of the Patriarchate that much because I would have gorged myself on some good food and really have put on the proverbial pounsd. There are no fitness centers in Istanbul. Some of the higher end hotels have them but evidently that West Coast phenomena has yet to hit here. Probably because they are not fighting an obesity epidemic- YET!

I say yet because once we hit the İstiklal Caddesi (Independence Avenue), a long pedestrian shopping street, we got a view of the American Invasion: Burger King, Pizza Hut, McDonalds, Starbucks. I wonder if  the Turkish version of these products are full of the unhealthy carbohydrates and fats as the American Counterpart.

Taksim Square is the main center of Istanbul- hotels, restaurants, stores- You name it- It's here. The heart beat of the city is very palpable. It was exciting to be this area of town. This is definitly Modern Istanbul. This is also a clash of Turkish identity. Here is the modern Turkey- or maybe what Turkey wants to be- and on the other hand there are still women here with head scarves- the underlying Muslim religious undertone (albeit not as prevelant as in the old city). Modern Turkey was created out of the Ottoman Empire as an experiment as a secular Muslim nation. It remains to see what comes out of this experiment. Nowdays we have seen what is happening in the middle east as a result of religious dominated government which denies basic human dignity. What really remains to be seen is if Turkey can walk that secular/religious tightrope. It is a tightrope. We disparage other countries for having religion in the mix of governing but when you take a look at our government being influenced by a Western theological framework that is alien to the Orthodox mindset there is a danger to losing our own religious identity.



Sahlep


We hit a desert place where I was introduced to a hot drink called Sahlep. This would be wonderful on a cold winter's night. Its almost like drinkng liquid Rizogalo (Rice Pudding) althought I did have Sütlaç (rice Pudding along with a little ice cream along with the Sahlep. Talk about Sugar overload! But then this was a one time experience (?).

We headed back to the Patriarchate as we had to be back befoer 8:30 for the Service for Holy Communion - A service of prayers usually said before the celebration of a Liturgy. For this Liturgy the Patriarch would be not serving but presiding on the throne. I will be serving Orthros in the morning.

November 24- Old Things

I've always been interested in history. I am of the opinion that no one can be a cultured person without knowing their own history for one, and the history of their neighbors. In our global world, our neighbors can be any country or culture that is different from our own. Knowing history gives you an insight into politics, economics, trade, international relations and a wide range of other topics. Being here in Constantinople had been a living history lesson. As I am typing this I am sitting at a place that has been inhabited at least two thousand five hundred years and probably even before that. I cannot express how it feels to see the massive stone wall/ fortification that preserved this city until its fall in 1453. The wall is still there- crumbling in some spots and restored in others.

I wanted to go to Topkapi Saray- Topkapi Palace- the home of the Sultans until the 1850's when Dolmabahçe Palace was constructed. The real reason was to see the skull and right hand of John the Baptist which was appropriated when the Empire fell.

Panagioti- The Patriarchate's Tour Guide

My guide, Panagioti, asked if I would also like to see the Istanbul Archeology Museum. He was also a history buff, and not many people ask to tour this particular museum. Our driver from the Patriarchate was going to wait for us to go to the museum and then to the Palace which was literally next door. From the minute we stepped through the gate I knew that this was going to be a hard place to get out of. First of all, outside the main building where Christian sarcophagi and ancient Baptismal Fonts. The Baptismal Fonts were all marble and made for adult baptisms. After the fall of the city, the Moslems altered the crosses on most and made Muslim designs on them.

Entering the Museum we face to face with works from the Hittite and Babylonian Empires. The Museum is a repository of items of archeological significance unearthed in the Ottoman Empire during the heydey of archeological explorations in the 1800's. After one hour we told the driver that we would get a taxi back to the Patriarchate. This Museum was not to be rushed. One of the hallmarks of this museum is that it does not gloss over that there was an Empire prior to the Ottoman Empire, or that Greeks inhabited this area before the Turks. It is made plain in the archeological evidence and it is not covered up.

One item in particular that is just amazing and in awesome condition - the Alexander Sarcophagus. This was excavated from a necropolis near Sidon, Lebanon in the 1887. In one area of the museum there is an exhibit of the surrounding area around Constantinople that included my paternal ancestral land- Thraki- Bythania. Everything in the exhibit was Hellenic.

My guide Panagioti became a celebrity of sorts. Students from one of the area schools were doing a class and somehow someone asked him a question because they heard him explaining things to me and before you know it he was surrounded by a whole group of students who were stumped by one of the items they were supposed to study. He didn't know the exact answer and even called the Director of the Museum to help out (he knew him). I hope at least these kids see what their history is all about.

Generally speaking, we harp on the Turks because in order to build their homogeneous they conveniently forget about some aspects of their own history. All countries do the same with their history. This museum definitely is one that didn't hide that history.

After spending quite a bit of time in the Istanbul Archeology Museum it was time to go to the Palace.

This was the seat of the Ottoman Empire from the fall until the 1850's when the seat was moved to the new Dolmabahçe Saray. To get into the Palace area you have to go past the outer gate. In the picture you can see dark stains under the ramparts. These were made by the blood of persons who were beheaded for one reason or another- usually treason.

We have to enter through the Sublime Portewhere all the diplomats arrived to pay their respects to the Sultan or converse with the Grand Vizier. If you were not a Muslim you could not enter past this gate. The rest of the palace grounds are forbidden. You are taken on a tour of the various pavillions that line a central grassy area. It reminds you of a park. The items on display are fantastic as they are priceless. So many diamonds, pearls and other precious stones adorn common objects that were worn on festive occasions. The tile work on some of the spaces is amazing. If you are looking for other items of historical value this was not the place. It is a let down in some respects, you would think that there would be some sense of historical significance here but there is not. The Sultans may have lived in luxury for their time but the luxury that forced the move to another palace is not found here.

The only real redeeming value is paying my respects to part of the head and hand of St John the Baptist. The treasures in the Pavilion of the Prophets span both the Old Testament and a couple of items of Mohammed and Mohammed's Mother. The relics of John the Baptist are in good company as there is also the Staff of Moses, the hat of Joseph- the husband of the Virgin Mary. As I was saying my prayers- Panagioti was talking to me in Turkish presumably telling me what I was looking at. As I figured there was a guard right behind me and Panagioti was pretending to explain things to me. Of course, I had no idea what he was saying but he knew what I was doing and was creating a diversion.

On the grounds of the Palace is probably the only Church to survive the conquest and subsequent years without be turned into a Mosque. That is the Church of Agia Irini (the Church of the Peace of God). The mother of one of the post-conquest Sultans was a Christian by origin and for that reason did not convert the Church but instead was used as weapons storage. This Church was built roughly the same time as Agia Sophia.

We took a Taxi to the Patriarchate in time for me to go to Vespers, I was in my coat and ties and saw the Grand Chancellor beckon me to him so I went into the Church. I should have known something was up as the usually closed center doors were wide open which means only one thing. I went into the Church to the stasidia at the right side aisle. A couple minutes later I am almost side by side with his All- Holiness. He had decided to come to Vespers in Honor of the Great Martyr, Aikaterini as a chanter.

November 21- The Hierachical Sylleitourgia

The Entrance of the Theotokos into the Temple is one of the feasts of the Virgin Mary that we celebrate with appropriate solemnity. This is one of the few days that the Archbishop of Constantinople, New Rome and Ecumenical Patriarch, Bartholomew I, celebrates the Divine Liturgy with Metropolitans of the the area. Today we are going to the Church of the Entrance of the Theotokos, Stavrodromion across the Golden Horn at Galata.

I ride to the Church in the Patriarchate's mini bust along with a couple of the Chanters, the neokoroi of the Patriarchate, the Grand Archimandrite, a couple of the Deacons. We get to the Church and we are greeted by one of the Metropolitans that I do not realize he is a Metropolitan. The Orthodox Clergy in Constantinople (as, supposedly, all clergy) must wear a suit and tie. We are then indistinguishable from one another. Often you do not know who is clergy and who is layman. Most of the time, if they are shorter, white hair, wear coat and tie, they are probably Metropolitans.

When we in the US have a Metropolitan or Bishop come to our parishes, we have everything ready. We priests (supposedly) know to have the dikiri-trikiri (Bishop's candlesticks) with proper candles and ribbons in addition to the other things the parish should have. It's a travesty that some parishes- even after a Metropolitan/ Bishop visits them still don't learn from their mistakes and make sure that they have everything for the next time their Hierarch visits them. It was the case in New Jersey when I was there and I see it California as well.The Bishop should bring with him his vestments. Everything else should be there.

The Patriarchate leaves NOTHING to chance. We arrived at the Church of the Entrance of the Theotokos Staudromion and the neokoroi of the Patriarchate start taking out suitcases. They had brought everything for the Patriarchal Liturgy- all the Deacon's vestments and the Grand Archimandrite's vestments, Patriarchal Vestments, chalices, glasses for post communion, icons for the Patriarch's entrance prayers, censers, incense, you name it they had it.  It was a well oiled machine. They have done it so often that everyone knew what was supposed to happen and they made it happen. In the space of half- hour at the most everything was ready.  I could only hope for half of a well oiled machine such as this. Of course, you did not see the packing the night before. They take down was just as impressive- everything went back in its place and put in the right place in the suitcase. To be put away at the Patriarchate. These folks are always in the Cathedral for Orthros and Vespers tending to the candles and the incense- and a myriad of other chores that keeps the Patriarchal Cathedral humming.

There were about 7 or 8 Metropolitans serving with the Patriarch I took my place out of the action since I did not have any liturgical responsibilities but learn and pray. Even though I did not have any responsibilities it was still a blessing for me to be back in the altar to watch the precision of the Divine Liturgy without having to direct anyone as I normally do on Sundays. Would that I ever have a Sunday when everyone knows exactly what to do when then need to do it. Usually when I get in that mode on some Sundays just to test out whether my boys are paying attention to what needs to get done- they get the "deer in the headlights" look and scramble to do what they need to get done.
 

The Patriarch never raises his voice or scolds anyone during the course of the Liturgy- even when some one does something incorrectly. I am sure someone did something incorrectly, but you will never know because they carry on as if it was the way it was supposed to be. Speaking for myself, whenever I do a liturgical action incorrectly, people never know because to them it seemed that that was the way it should have been done. You keep on going. This was a special day- The main aisle of the church was packed and the side aisles also had people but not jam packed. The children from what I assume was one of the remaining Greek day schools in  the Taksim area. It was good to see young people there.

http://www.hurriyetdailynews.com/n.php?n=one-sole-student-educated-in-a-greek-school-2010-11-15

A couple of things stood out in my mind. First, the Patriarch himself communed the people when the came to receive communion- no priest, no second chalice- His All-Holiness, himself. Most times in a hierarchical liturgy there is more than one chalice to distribute Holy Communion and if the hierarch gives the holy gifts he does so for a short time and then gives the chalice to another priest. No here. There was no delegation of this duty. This was Patriarch Bartholomew's responsibility and he took it seriously. Of course, there was no line for communion- just a big crowd that seemed like it would not end. 

The other thing that stood in my mind was that after the people received their antidoron (which the Patriarch distributed along with a small icon) the milled around in the back of the Church or in the side aisles greeting one another. Similar to what we do when we greet each other in the Narthex of the Church. We pride ourselves on "taksi" - order- but in reality I think this is one of the "puritanical" things that have crept into the Church in America. Our faith is relational and to say that we shouldn't greet each other in Church is being disingenuous to who we are as Christians caring for one another. The liturgy does not end with "Through the prayers of our holy fathers..." but the liturgy is continuous through every waking moment of the day.

The antidoron was cut not from one big loaf with a seal but many little loaves. I liked this. I think I will recommend it to my ladies when I get back to the states

A note about most of the Churches in Constantinople. I think I mentioned in an earlier post that the was some type of building program in the late 1700's and more in the middle of the 1800's. There was a prohibition of the churches having a dome. The Churches were built according to the basilica style in which the building is long rectangular building which was the common public building in the Roman era. The space inside the building is usually divided by colonnades (columns) that divide the space into a main central nave and side aisles and an apse on the end where the Holy Table and Sanctuary is located. In domed Churches the Icon of Christ Pantocrator is located in the dome. In the basilica Churches there is a medallion of the Pantocrator in the same position that the dome would have been (Hint for Richmond, VA).

November 20- Kapalıçarşı- The Grand Bazzar

Malls where we go to hang out with friends, where teenagers congregate in abundance, where we- of course- go shopping are a modern invention. So we would like to think.

Enter into the Kapalıçarşı -which is translated the "Covered Bazzar" but we like to change the names of things and have called it the "Grand Bazzar." This is the 'Mother of All Indoor Malls'! Imagine trying to navigate through 1,200 shops on 58 'streets.' I think you can buy just about anything. John Klentos and I were driven down by one of the Patriarchate drivers. I was overwhelmed with the sights and sounds of the place. I got a couple of things but really wasn't into haggling with too many shop owners. We stumbled into one area of the bazzar that was more of an antique area. I was royally ticked off because they had old icons and religious artifacts for sale. Who knows from what Churches or houses these icons and objects came from. They definitely were not factory made copies. 

Dr Klentos was on a shopping spree as he needed to get his presents before he left on Monday morning, just two days hence. I was just glad to get out of the Patriarchate for a bit. The phrase "çok pahalı" is one that every one needs to know before going to the bazzar which means "too expensive." Know what you are willing to pay for something before you go. Then low ball until you reach an agreement with the shop keeper. 

We barely scratched a portion of the area. Definitely did not hit all 58 streets but just a few of them. We needed to be back by 4:30 Vespers. He wanted to go by the spice market. I thought it was part of the Bazzar but a whole different area. We walked outside and I was getting hungry. All of a sudden as an answer to a prayer. There was the most delicious aroma coming from one shop. This is not your typical greasy festival gyro. This is pure meat on a very thin flat bread. No need for condiments it is tasty and juicy all by itself. With a glass of squeezed before-your-eyes fresh chilled orange juice it made for a perfect lunch.

We walked a little further down and finally hit the spice market. I have never seen anything like this- teas and spices that you have never seen- all before your eyes. You just wonder that this is the way people have been selling for ages. We stopped off at one store and ended up buying different types of teas. I haven't had coffee except for the cappuccino on Halki since I have been here. Its chai all the way. Every morning begins with two cups of fresh brewed chai. And its NOT Lipton. 


When I get back I am going to really drink tea. Its great anytime of day. Maybe the British know something we don't. I think the love affair with tea ended with the Boston Tea Party. Or, something like that.


Not to be outdone. There is even a PET Market. This is not your typical PetSmart store. No, this is just like the spice market but they have a variety of pet, pet foods, and pet snacks all for the asking- or buying. Leeches, they have those too. 


The good thing about traveling to different parts of the world is that you see how people live, work and play. We in the US have become victims of our own propaganda that says that we are the epitome of civilization. The "we're number one" mentality that discounts any other way of life, or any other culture. 

If I had the choice, I would not change the lifestyle to which I am accustomed in the US, but neither will I denigrate any other way of living. For them its just as a valid mode as mine. Some cultures may live simpler others more complex that what I am used to. But it still nice to experience that way of life- then come back to what I am used to.  The grass is not always greener on the other side. If it does look greener it might be because the sun may be blinding you.

November 20- Liturgy at the Patriarchal Cathedral

As in most endeavors there are sometimes slow days when nothing seems to be going on. Had a couple of days of that going on. Then on Friday morning I was asked if I would celebrate the Divine Liturgy on Saturday Morning. Who am I to say no? So I agreed. One thing about the Patriarchate, the vestments of the Priest and Deacon match. The only thing I was asked to bring to the Patriarchate was my sticharion (the first vestment that a priest puts on) since it is really tailored to size. The other parts of the Priest's vestments can be used by different priests of similar height. I brought a whole set of vestments. So far I have not used the set at all. Maybe by the time I leave I will.

Deacon Grigorios was to be my deacon for the service. I'm glad he was there to guide me in the small intricacies of serving in the Patriarchal Cathedral. Things are done the same all over the world but at the Patriarchate there are a some subtle differences. For instance, when the Patriarch's name is commemorated during the services, all bow toward the Bishop's throne whether he is present or not. There are more metanias (deep bows) that are normally done in the parish. Of course, no clergy wear a cross- even if their ecclesiastical rank entitles them to it. Why? The Patriarch is the Igumenos (Abbot) of the Great Monastery which is the Patriarchate. The Igumenos is the only one to wear a cross. This is evident in a Hierarchichal Concelebration where the Metropolitans only wear an engolpion and no cross. The Patriarch is the only one with a cross (and crown). 

The opportunity to serve at the Patriarchate is a deep honor for me. The only thing even more awesome would be if I actually served with the Patriarch. Don't really think that is going to happen because the Patriarch only celebrates at specific times and there is a protocol of who actually serves. But you never say never, or something like that. The feelings that I expressed earlier when I was relating serving Orthros and Vespers never really abate. There is a connection to a historical past which continues into the present and the future.

The experience at the Patriarchate from a priestly perspective is just as important as the pilgrimage to the Holy Land in 1995. These are unforgettable periods in my ever-continuing formation. Some opportunities are thrust upon you, others are there for the grabbing. I am definitely leaving Constantinople a changed person.

People may say "Why doesn't the Patriarchate leave Constantinople and go someplace where he has more freedom to be the Ecumenical Patriarchate?" I think this is a shortsighted statement. Just take a look at the Holy Land. The land that gave Jesus Christ His Birth, witness to His Ministry, Death and Resurrection is being abandoned by Christians left and right. The economic opportunities are not there any longer since most Christians are Palestinian and they suffer just as much discrimination from Muslim Palestinians from Israel and probably feel discrimination from their Muslim compatriots. Two to three generations have been waiting for the restoration of their homeland and haven't seen it yet.

This is the situation that the Patriarchate finds itself. Who will take care of our religious inheritance if not for the Patriarchate?  Who will speak for our history in the face of those who would alter it? And alter they (the Turks) do.