A Rose in the Hand
To our amazement, a group of men was waiting there for us, as well, their arms filled with flowers. Each of us was presented with an artfully wrapped red rose and a fond greeting. It's a time-honored Turkish tradition to meet friends and family at the airport with flowers; little did we know we already had friends here waiting for us.
These men, we were told, were representatives of the Gülen movement, which had sponsored our trip to Turkey. Quite probably, some if not all of these gentlemen had contributed generously to pay the expenses of some of my traveling companions. But they didn't linger to chat or to dwell on our thank-yous; it was late, and they knew that we had a city to discover. We would learn more about our hosts another day.
Peace through tourism?
In Texas, it all began with a small group of Turkish volunteers in Houston. The Institute for Interfaith Dialog was inspired by the teachings of Turkish educator, author and spiritual leader Fethullah Gülen, whose name is barely heard in the West but who has inspired millions of believers to follow his peaceful, tolerant and service-oriented approach to Islam. Gülen, a follower of the Sufi philosopher Said Nursi, applies the traditional Islamic philosophy of hizmet, or service, to the goals of improving society through education and dialogue.Following Gülen's admonition, "To build a mosque is good; to build a school is better," volunteers with the Gülen movement have built more than 300 schools and universities throughout Turkey and in the less developed countries of Central Asia. Educators, parents and entrepreneurs who share Gülen's views have also founded hospitals, newspapers and even a television station.
In the United States, beginning in Texas, Gülen-inspired volunteers formed the Interfaith Dialog with the mission to promote peace and dialogue among people from different faith perspectives. The first event was an annual Ramadan dinner, which grew to include other projects. In 2004 the institute began to organize tour groups to Turkey for local clergy, educators and community leaders.
And what better place to explore the essential commonality of humanity than here: fertile ground for early Christianity, a refuge to persecuted Jews and home to a modern, moderate Islam?
But these trips were not to be an ordinary tourist enterprise. Their aim was to be nothing less than a journey of the heart and soul.
Learning to fly
The trips grew from a small initial delegation in the fall of 2004 to three groups totaling more than 60 people in the spring of 2006. The San Antonio group this spring consisted of a Unitarian minister and his wife, a Jewish community leader and her husband, a Catholic deacon, a Presbyterian minister, a Catholic business professor, two Muslim doctoral students and a journalist. Veysel Demir, who is working on his doctoral degree in environmental engineering at the University of Texas at San Antonio, exemplifies the spirit of this global network of volunteers. Demir tries to explain how it is that he and thousands of other mainly Turkish people donate their time, money and creative energy to this movement. He is fond of quoting one of Gülen's favorite sayings."One needs to have two wings to fly," he says. "With strong intellect but no moral direction, human beings never really learn how to fly."
Istanbul is bustling at 7:45 on a Monday morning, with late-model cars whizzing past on an immaculate, tree-lined thoroughfare. This is the new part of Istanbul, bristling with satellite dishes and adorned with building-size billboards advertising the latest products, and except for the occasional minaret towering over the high-rises, it could be any other European city. The iron, postmodern sculpture honoring former President Turgut Ozal greets the morning rush-hour traffic, and it's not until we pass a chunk of the crumbling brick wall of ancient Constantinople that I am reminded of how old this city really is.
We're off to have breakfast at the Sema Hospital, a Gülen movement project. While Turkey has implemented a free health care system for those in need, the service can leave a great deal to be desired; clinic and hospital waits are typically many hours.
Instead of succumbing to the frustration of an incomprehensible, inefficient bureaucracy, Gülen volunteers contribute what they have to making it better - building private institutions that respond to the need.
"In each area of life you need to have spiritually developed people to give to the public life - schools, hospitals, television, media. The people who volunteer for the Gülen movement are not just teachers or doctors," says Demir. "They are all over the world, and whatever they do, they can be volunteers for this movement."
The hospital is converted from a seaside resort hotel, and is as pleasant a place as a hospital can possibly be. Over breakfast in the conference room that overlooks the Bosphorus, Dr. Ahmet Ruhi, the assistant chief of staff, tries to explain the difference from the four existing Sema hospitals from the public hospital system.
"The first aim of this hospital is to create love and trust between doctors and patients," said Dr. Ruhi. "In the public hospitals, patients must wait hours and hours.... The ratio of doctors to patients is very low. Here there is a relationship of trust."
That relationship is echoed by the physicians and staff who we meet with as we tour the hospital, the teachers we meet with in the Gülen movement schools and universities and the journalists at Samanyolu TV, the Gülen-affiliated network television station. Everywhere we go, we speak with highly educated professionals who, when prompted by an inquisitive reporter, speak of their dedication to the movement.
Chief of staff Hamdi Tutkun, a psychiatrist who has come from the public hospital sector, visits with us over breakfast and then leads us on our rounds. Dr. Tutkun estimates that 40 percent of the physicians are women; one of the hospital's two cardiac surgeons is a woman, a fact he mentions with the same pride he exhibits as he shows us the latest in MRI technology.
Dancing to the rhythm
For lunch we go to Camlica Tepesi, a garden on a hill overlooking the Bosphorus. Wandering with my camera I meet three high school girls and ask to take their photos. Like everyone else in Istanbul today, Merve Gungor, Zeynep Yuksel and Gozde Guner were celebrating the anniversary of the conquest of Fatih Sultan Mehmet in 1453.The girls were laughing merrily at their good fortune at having discovered a tourist from Texas with whom to practice their English. Zeynep fielded a call on her cell phone and suddenly her bright smile faded. In the jumble of words that followed, I picked up "turist" and "ingilizce."
"It's our English teacher," she explained. "Actually, we have a test which we forgot."
"So, what will your teacher do to you?" I wanted to know.
Zeynep looked distressed. "We will probably be punished," she said. And then she laughed a schoolgirl's laugh as Gozde said something irreverent that nobody wanted to translate.
The girls were curious about Texas, about the United States, about Christians and Jews. Gozde was a folkloric dancer, as was Elifnur Yilmaz, a pre-med student who joined the girls a few moments after I arrived. Elifnur was curious as she had learned recently that the Jewish people have a dance that is similar to one of the old Turkish dances. "Do you know about this dance?" she wanted to know.
I did not, but I went and got Judith Lackritz, community relations director of the Jewish Federation of San Antonio, who coaxed the girls to their feet to compare dances. Much to their delight, Judith and the two girls discovered many similarities and began sashaying across the pavilion, arm-in-arm.
Planting seeds
The impact of these exchanges have been widespread and profound, according to Bernadette Andrea, a professor of literature at UTSA who went to Turkey on one of the first interfaith dialog tours last year."Even if someone does read the New York Times front to back and does read all sorts of supplementary newsmagazines and is very informed, we still don't get a true understanding of each other as we're trying to build bridges between the West and the Islamic world," she reflected. "That's why it's so important for us to get out of our comfort zones, whether it's here or in Turkey or the Islamic world, and dialogue and talk and share our homes with people."
Since she returned last year, she has seen how the seeds from that trip have blossomed here and in Turkey. Several ministers returned from the trip to start discussion groups about Islam, while others have begun to read the Koran as they seek interfaith understanding. One minister from Dallas who teaches at Southern Methodist University prevailed upon his administration to establish several washing stations throughout the campus to enable Muslim students to more easily perform ablutions before prayers, as their faith requires.
The minister told his story at a gathering at Southern Methodist. "As he was telling this story - it was mostly Turkish people, but also different types of Americans - you could feel this sense of love, a heartfelt sense of appreciation descend over the whole room," said Andrea. "These are the ripple effects of these efforts. One can give and hear countless speeches without having a lasting impact, but this gesture meant the whole world."
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