Ashkenazai Synogague

This synagogue is located in Karakoy, Istanbul. It's well-hidden, but if you look up between the right buildings, you'll see it.

Collaged block print, 2010

Christmas in The Village!

People have been asking if we'll be here, and the answer is yes! 

Come on down and check out Naramata's lovely Heritage Inn and Spa all decorated up for the holidays! We'll have our scarves, paintings and jewelry for sale at this extra special Christmas Craft faire. Also check out my mom's handmade Christmas stockings next to the fireplace!


Drop by and visit us!

The Lost Glamour of Munson Mountain

If you've ever driven down highway '97, you can't miss Munson Mountain, it's the little mountain next to Okanagan Lake with PENTICTON spelled out in big white letters a la the Hollywood sign. I'm totally ashamed that I've been up only a few times in my life despite having driven past it countless times on my way home. Most tourists cruise past this little jewel as well, with the lure of free wine tasting just around the corner!  Well, one afternoon we stopped and walked the short distance to the top. Under-appreciated Munson mountain needs it's glamour restored!

Penticton from the top. During the summer months, 

teenagers and tourists gather at dusk to watch the sunset.

This humble little mountain has an interesting history. Firstly, the land was donated to the city of Penticton by J.R. Munson, hence the name. Secondly, the mountain is the remains of an ancient volcano. A volcano! In Penticton! Who knew? What's more, it's the remains of not one, but TWO! volcanic cones.

Up until 1974, the view up the valley from this mountain was on the back of the Canadian $100 bill. (Way back in 1974, when hundred dollar bills were actually worth something!) (Interesting side-note: My parents bought a house in Naramata in 1973  for $4,500.)

That $100 dollar view up the lake, looking towards Kelowna. 

Naramata is on the right, Summerland on the left.

I "borrowed" this picture, as I have none of the actual letters....yet! 

(To be replaced at a later date!)

The letters were originally placed up there in 1937 to create a landmark for Penticton. When I was a kid the sign was made of thousands of tiny white silica rocks, but the sign was upgraded to poured concrete letters with embedded silica in 1998. It is, and has always been, maintained by volunteer groups from Penticton, notably the Jaycees, the Rotary Club and the Boy scouts.

View from the top, Munson is surrounded by wineries, vineyards and orchards.

A few deer also live on and around the mountain. The day we visited we saw one doe just under the Penticton sign, and last week I saw three deer grazing on the back slope next to the road - which is why I hope the proposal to build an amphitheater up on top doesn't come to fruition. I like the idea of keeping this mini ancient volcano as pristine as possible.

A recent commercial, which got mass airtime during the Winter Olympics, features Kim Catrall of "Sex ad the City" fame raising a glass of white and smoothly delivering a single word, "Sophisticated", with Munson Mountain in the background. Thanks Kim! Glamour! That's what I'm talking about!

My Story in Wanderlust and Lipstick!

Although I didn't win the Wanderlust and Lipstick travel writing contest, the website liked my story and asked if they could publish it anyway. Here is my risky entirely-written-in-the-present-tense story!

(And yes! Those are my and Melanie's feet jammed into hamam slippers!)

Day 10: Yay! The Weekend Is Here!

When you ask a person from Vancouver, "Is it raining outside?", they usually answer, "No". Then you go outside and get soaked, because it IS raining outside, but to Vancouverites that's not really raining. They have a totally different scale than the rest of the world.

Outside conditions are getting to me.

I wake up in the morning to the sounds of pelting rain. I leave the house for the bus stop while it's still dark outside and 9 days out of 10, it's been raining. I skip to avoid puddles and pools, wrapped up in my raincoat and clutching my umbrella to shield me from the sheets of precipitation. And I don't even think about stepping on grass, it's soggy and my shoes will get sucked down into the mud in a second.

The sun is never up by the time I leave in the morning, and even when it does come up, it's rays can't penetrate the thick rain clouds that live above the city.

The bus smells like wet socks and soggy newspapers. Dripping, multi-coloured umbrellas and rain boots line the aisles.

After school, I slip out into the same dark, drizzly, drippy situation I arrived in. I do my homework to the sound of pelting rain, eat my dinner to it, and then fall asleep to it.

I'm listening to it right now.

But yesterday afternoon, while we were making demi-glace, I glanced up. I looked over all the steaming pots, past the demo area and through the office into the street. The sun was shining, and it was so beautiful!

The sun is shining! I couldn't take my eyes off it! Oh how I've missed the light! I just wanted to go outside and stand in it, but a guest chef's demo on knife sharpening went way overtime, and I knew my chances of getting out there were slim to none.

By the time we were actually let out, just the last of the days rays were lingering.

Outside the back door of the school is this church, working quickly as the light was fading fast, I grabbed my little camera I'm carrying around for food pictures and captured a few rays of sunshine on the dome.

Ten minutes later it was dark again.

Week in Retrospect

This week was really good in some ways and bad in others.

I really liked my partner this week. I liked him more after I saw some other teams not getting on well. There's nothing wrong with saying to someone, "Hey maybe while I'm whisking this up, you could wash those dishes".

So I made sure to tell my partner before leaving the floor, "Thank you for saving my butt so many times this week. You're a really good partner!"

He replied, "What? You mean you saved ME!" I was happy about that as I am conscious about trying to be a good work partner. Monday brings me a new partner.

The Good.

- I'm finally figuring out where things are in the kitchen.

- My knife cuts are improving, and I'm slowly getting faster at them.

- I feel I've got a pretty well-organised routine down for the morning.

- I'm not feeling sick anymore.

The Bad.

- With more pressure in our cooking, people are starting to feel the pressure to perform, lots of nicks, cuts and burns this week.

- Recipes I need to memorize are piling up!

The excellent.

It's stopped raining! The sun is out! And it's Saturday! I'm out of here!

Day Trip From Istanbul: Iznik

As the deadline for our departure back to Canada loomed, we knew we had to get organised. Too many little things needed to be done, and time was slipping away. Mel and I sat down a drafted a list. Most of the items were mundane like "repair jewelry" and "get quotes on shipping", but number 11 sat in amongst these tasks like a jewel.

11. Go to Iznik.

Iznik had long occupied a place on my "to do" list. Always put off in favor of other trips and excursions, her number was up. Mel and I were determined not to leave Turkey without a visit.

We set a day.

I got the flu and postponed the trip.

We set another day.

The day before we were to leave, we learned there was going to be a public transport strike and all busses and ferries were going to be cancelled for the day. The information was incomplete and unclear, but on Thursday morning bright and early we made our way to Yenikapi ferry terminal and (thankfully) boarded the ferry for Yalova.

We stood on the ferry and watched the sun rise over the Marmara sea and thousands of seagulls swarm the fishing boats as they steamed into the Kumkapi market with their catches destined for the tables of the classy Balik Sokak (Fish Street) restaurants.

The Blue Mosque, along with our little apartment in the background, fade off in the distance. This was in late November, when morning fog is a normal occurrence.

Off the boat in Yalova, we hopped a

local minibus, an hour later we arrived in Iznik.

I was pleasantly surprised by Iznik, and immediately wished I'd made the trip sooner. The small cobbled streets were lined with huge maple trees, displaying bright fall colours. Mosques, museums and ruined Byzantine churches lined the quaint narrow streets, and of course local shops sold Iznik-style ceramics. (Back in the 17th century, Iznik was an important centre producing ceramic tiles for all of the Ottoman mosques and palaces. Although little is produced here these days, the design of tile still holds the name "Iznik".) One man beckoned us to take pictures of his antique hamam.

"That's the men's section!" I feigned shock.

"Haha! No problem! I'll kick the men out!" he joked.

Transportation of choice in this agricultural town in definitely the tractor. Brightly painted and parked outside of houses, these vehicles hauled the towns produce from field to market. I asked one man what he was hauling, it turned out to be olives, on the way to the mill to be pressed for oil. Other tractor's wagons were full of walnuts, sheep, massive cabbages and bright persimmons.

The green Mosque, with it's original

Iznik tile decoration around the minaret.

We wandered the streets with a little map from the information centre, stumbling upon buildings and sites. We visited the city wall and gates and stumbled upon the Green Mosque, among the top sites in Iznik. Mel and I adored this building, its proportion, decoration and design had our cameras busily working away from every angle.

Front door of the Green Mosque.

Iznik is located on the shores of Iznik Lake. We quickly fount that walking from one of end of the town to the other took about 20 minutes at a leisurely pace, within minutes we found ourselves slipping through a little doorway in the city wall and standing on a very nicely kept beach. Here we met Mehmet and his little dog - Raki. (Best name ever for this little white dog with attitude!)

Mehmet and Raki

Glass-like waters of Iznik Lake.

The next day would be Kurban Bayram, or the "Sacrifice Holiday". Traditionally, families sacrifice a sheep or cow and distribute a portion of the meat to poor families. All over Iznik we saw sheep being taken home in preparation for the next day's activities. They were carted around in trucks, on tractors and even walked home on leashes like the family dog. Poor sheep.

Unwilling. Do they know?

We loved Iznik for many obvious reasons - its interesting buildings, friendly locals and small town vibe, but what makes this place stands out from other day trips from Istanbul is its lack of tourism in a place that would be IDEAL for summer vacations. A large lake for swimming and boating, flat terrain for cycling, and gorgeous fresh produce!

We left Iznik for Yalova in the evening, as the sun set on this precious little town, and I finally crossed number 11 of my list.

Mardin! (as promised)

Can we put our finger on what makes us love Mardin so? Is it the gorgeous setting on the side of a mountain with the dramatic scenery of patchwork plains spread out before us? Is it the local arts and crafts that are still practiced with masterful skill in the shops and bazaars everyday? Or is it the exotic honey-coloured stone buildings, intricately carved into flowers and geometric designs?

Mardin bazaar, where you can buy anything from a wedding dress to live chickens!

Obviously we love Mardin. An ancient, multi-ethnic, busy town that makes you feel you’ve stepped back in time. Donkeys click-clack through the streets, mosques with unique little pomegranate tops and people who still welcome visitors with a heartfelt “Hosgeldiniz!”

Ablutions before prayers.

Mardin minaret and plateau of farmland that stretches all the way to Syria.

Olive oil soap in the bazaar carved in the style of local mosques.

Time spent wandering the streets and bazaars of this town is well spent. Wood and metal workers create unique little pieces in tiny little workshops, inviting you in for tea and showing you their wares.

Mosques with ornate Syrian-style minarets and ribbed domes litter the hillside. In the evening when the temperature cools, everyone comes outdoors to socialize and children fly kites high above the town. It’s rumored the Garden of Eden may have been located near here, and we believe it!

Above: View from (and of) our hotel, a 500-year old caravansary!

Below: More ablutions...

Hasankeyf: Are Her Days Numbered?

As our minibus rounds the corner and Hasankeyf comes into view, both sisters become visibly excited. “Let’s go!” and we're off across the bridge for a second glimpse of our first look at this ancient city straddling the Tigris River. A sweeping view of cave houses, ancient minarets, ruins and of course the blue-green of the Tigris as she slips past sheep and cattle grazing along her shores. Below children swim and fish in the river, enjoying their lazy-days-of-summer youth, without a care in the world.

The old minaret in the village.

There are two staircases inside that wrap like a double helix.

But the world cares, and many eyes have turned to this sleepy ancient town in Eastern Turkey. Once the Ilusu Dam is completed 90km down-river, Hasankeyf will be lost forever under rising waters.

Although the town made the list of the World's 100 Most Endangered Sites, locals are in denial.

“Foreign governments are pulling out their support, it will never happen,” a local waiter tells us. He's right; Austria, Germany and Switzerland have all opted out of the project. Another young man, selling carpets made from the hair of his grandfather’s goats plans to move on, “After military service, I’ll settle somewhere else, who can live like this?”

As we explore the old cave area of Hasankeyf, an old woman standing on her cave balcony waves to us and beckons us to come up. We scramble up the side of the cliff as she points out the way, and we are invited into her home, introduced to her grandson and given a cold glass of water from her huge Arcelik-brand fridge, the only appliance in her house. Perched on top is a wild looking skinny little cat, which scurries away when she sees visitors arrive.

There are two rooms here, one looks like storage, and something is scurrying around back there, and I tell myself it’s just the cat.

The main room has a large raised platform, which serves as a bed and sitting area. There are carpets, pillows and sheets everywhere, as well as several plastic containers full of water. Laundry is strung across a line dissecting the room.

I summon up my Turkish and ask her how long she’s been living here.

“Hasankeyf”, she responds. Doubting my Turkish skills, I ask her how many people live here.

“Hasankeyf”, she responds.

“Tu chowani?”, (How are you?) I inquire, (one of the 2 Kurdish phrases I know). Her face lights up and she replies, “Ez bashim!” (I’m good!)

I manage to surmise that five people live in the cave house, and she was born there. The power comes from an extension cord that runs up the mountain and the only appliance it runs is the fridge.

She lets us take a few pictures of her home and points out a few cherished items, a photo here, a trinket there. She shows off a few handkerchiefs and headscarves that she’s tatted around the outside. Mel and I pick a white one with blue beads. The lira we pay for the headscarf is more of a donation, the experience of being able to sit in this woman's home and observe a fading and endangered way of life is priceless.

Later, a café worker would tell us that she is one of only a handful of people still living the cave life in Hasankeyf, the others have moved into houses in the village.

“There used to be a family living in the castle, but they finally moved down to the village, all the water they used had to be transported by donkey up the mountain. It was so hard in winter.”

The Process

I love Ortakoy. For me, it's where the Bosphorus meets Istanbul. There's something intimate and secret about the place. Every odd Thursday night you can find me there with a group of revelers from "The Sublime Portal", other times I'll be there on a Saturday wandering its little streets, and all streets lead to this mosque.

The architect was Armenian, and a Turkish friend pointed out that seagulls never land on this mosque. I've watched, and he's right.

Google "Ortakoy mosque", and you'll see this mosque and bridge captured over and over - in every type of weather and every season, in every media.

No matter. I also wanted to do something with this mosque beyond photographing it, so I dug up the above photo that I took last summer.

And I drew this.

Ugh and ick. Not happy. Not only did I mess up several of the details on the mosque, it didn't convey how I felt about the place at all. So I threw it in the bookshelf. Where it sat for months and months, until Mel fished it out last week and said, "I think you should really do something with this".

She was right. So I thought about why I felt this try was so unsuccessful, and decided I wanted the space to be more cozy, like the area itself. So I turned the next paper on its side, and after lots of trail and error, I drew this.

This was better! I fixed several of the details on the mosque I'd messed up on the first one and then distorted it slightly and simplified it a lot.

The next step was to decide on, and colour in, all the black parts with a soft graphite pencil, and then transfer the mirror image onto lino. Then I carved it up. As is tradition, I also carved up part of my finger as well. I would have shown this as part of the process, but it's pretty nasty looking.

I usually change a lot of things in this step, depending on how many times I slip and mess up. I added some details to the boats and made a last minute decision to keep the dome all black. I also made a major, (in my eyes) blunder, but we're not going to talk about that.

Ok, so I'm not one of those printers who pulls off the first few prints and labels them artist's proofs. I'm just too picky for that. This is the very first print. It's now at the bottom of the rubbish bin. As you can see, this is just for me to check out how things are looking so far, hence the torn out paper from a sketchbook and sloppy printing.

This one wasn't too bad. I often leave bits undone, so I can look at the whole picture after the first print and decide which direction to go. I decided to straighten and neaten some lines, take out some bits that were getting accidentally inked, and leave the rest as it was.

Then I made a mess. Yes, I like to work on the floor for this part.

Nearing completion! I have to do more printing later tonight. The ink is just drying far too quickly in this heat for me to pull nice prints. The prints in the morning were much better.

And done! Ortakoy mosque, fresh off the roller!

Good-bye Istanbul!!!

Not forever, of course, but just for a few weeks.

In my travels to say good-bye to friends and get a laundry list of things done, here is my last few days in the Big 'Bull, mostly in pictures.

The gorgeous fountain outside Topkapi Palace. I cannot get enough of this building! 

The colours, the textures, the marble the tiles... I just love it.

My friend Murat owns a few carpet shops here in Sultanahmet. He's from Van and has two Van cats at his shop. Like him, these cats come from Eastern Turkey and have a few special qualities. 

1) They always have two different coloured eyes. 

2)They are always pure white, sometimes with a little grey spot at the base of their necks, between their shoulder blades. (Legend says it's the place where God touched them as they left the Ark, also located near Van on Mt. Ararat.)

3) They have an undercoat, which keeps them dry when they SWIM. Yes, I said it! SWIM!

Sultan and Sultana

Sultana's blue eye, green eye and evil eye, (round her neck!) 

Sultana has just had kittens, although all of them are ORANGE (bad Sultana!), 

they all have the most amazing green or blue eyes,

 (matching eyes, only pure kitties get different ones.) 

The Blue Mosque in the late afternoon sun.

Sweet dog that has been adopted by a restaurant on the hippodrome.

Cargo Ships getting loaded up on the Asian side.

View of Sokollu Mehmet Pasha Mosque and the boats in the 

Marmara Sea from our terrace at sunset. 

Although we're sad to leave Istanbul for these next 6 weeks,  we keep telling ourselves we'll be back before we know it. In the meantime.... next stop for adventure - Muscat, Oman! Hello 50 degree weather, blazing sun and burning sand!! We must be crazy!