A little miracle, a little knot, something a little sweet

April 19, 2014

In 1812, an invalid nun, Sister Anne Catherine Emmerich, awoke from sleep in her small village in Germany, her hands bleeding with the stigmata. Almost in a trance, she described a vision she’d just had which involved the Apostle John and the Virgin Mary travelling from Jerusalem to Ephesus. Entrusted to care for Mary by Jesus as he was dying on the cross, John brought Mary to Ephesus, where he was preaching the word of God. There, Sister Anne said he built Mary a house to see out her last days. It was built near a spring, she said: it was rectangular, with a fireplace, an apse, and a rounded back wall.

Much later, a clergyman travelled to Ephesus after reading of the visions of Sister Anne. He hiked far and long, until he came to a little house on the hill that local villagers had been venerating for aeons: believing it to be sacred. It fit the vision. He declared it the Meryemana, the house of the Blessed Virgin, according to the visions of Sister Anne. Archeologists came and dated much of the newer construction to about 500 years later than Mary’s possible stay, but the foundations and lower walls were shown to be from the time of Mary, and the layout was exactly as Sister Anne had described. Though Anne had never travelled. So, they could not naysay the theory: allowing that it might be possible.

Tens of thousands of pilgrims visit the wee house and its tiny anteroom that Sister Anne said was Mary’s bedroom, each year. A couple of Popes have called in recent times. One even left his rosary beads. The house is peaceful, interrupted only by bird chirrups, and the gentle tinkling of a spring as it drops over nearby rocks. On a wall in the anteroom soft lichen is growing, making a portrait: which looks much like the face of Mary. Though, I don’t think Sister Anne reported that as one of the miracles that made up her visions. Anne has since been beatified.

In Selçuk, we visited a carpet factory, a terribly touristy thing to do whilst in Turkey, but we didn’t stay long and were not enticed to buy. But we found it interesting. And we learned the difference between a carpet and a kilim. A carpet is knotted; a kilim is woven. Turkish carpet makers are very proud of the double knots they use to create their carpets, believing them stronger than others made with only a single knot and a loop. Silk is more expensive than wool, and here, silk cocoons are soaked prior to being wound into skeins to knot.

By now it was time for a drink and a snack so we tried our first Gözleme (Goes leh' meh). Gözleme is like fine phyllo, unleavened, rolled and stretched transparently thin, made using long spindle rollers and fine thin pincers to turn: filled with your choice of filling, dripped with fine strings of rich butter, then cooked on a convex shaped metal pan, called a saç. We felt like something sweet, so ours was flavoured with chocolate. Perfect with çay. Everything is made right in front of you in Turkey. And people are so delighted that you care about that. Mad foodies, the Turkish folk.

oooOOOooo