My View: Confluence of faiths in trip to Turkey
In late 2000, several classmates and I stole away from our intensive Jewish studies program in Jerusalem to travel to Turkey. The second intifada had broken out only a few months before and all of our nerves were frayed.
Rabbi Alex Lazarus-Klein, of Williamsville, has seen how faith connects peoples.
Before 9/11, travel was relatively easy and inexpensive. For just a few hundred dollars we booked a flight to Istanbul. And for a few dollars more we booked a room at a youth hostel in the tourist district a mile from the majestic Blue Mosque. Turkish lira were at an all-time low, with 1 million lira being roughly equivalent to a dollar. This meant the entire five-day trip would cost less than $500.
We marveled at the beauty of an ancient city built by the Romans and that was wonderfully cosmopolitan and historic. Straddling Europe and Asia, Istanbul was a unique treasure filled with carpet shops, elaborate palaces, boisterous markets, and cafes selling all manner of baklava and Turkish delights.
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Before going, we had been warned to hide any hint of our Jewish identities. The Jewish community in Turkey had suffered through several terrorist attacks and was very much on guard. Concealing our yarmulkes under our baseball caps, we tried our best to fit in.
Our flight there happened to be a few days after Christmas, but going from a Jewish country to a Muslim one hardly factored into our plans. What mattered more was that it was also in the middle of Hanukkah. For this, one of us snuck a small menorah and a box of candles in a travel bag.
After an exhausting day of touring, we huddled together in the room to light candles for the seventh night of Hanukkah. In a whisper we sang the blessings and traditional songs of the holiday, hoping not to set off smoke alarms.
The next day we scoped out the local Jewish community looking for a synagogue to celebrate the Sabbath. While this was a secular getaway, we very much wanted to explore Jewish life in Istanbul. There were fewer than 10,000 Jews left and a smattering of synagogues, all patrolled by armed guards. After providing our passports and enough Jewish credentials to make them feel safe, we were given permission to attend a Friday night service.
Being Shabbat observant, we did not want to spend money or use electricity on the Sabbath. But, we had a challenge as we were many miles from the synagogue and it would have taken us hours to walk. Unbeknownst to us, that Friday night marked the end of Ramadan and the beginning of the festival of Eid. This meant public transportation was free. In a Hanukkah miracle, we happily boarded a bus to head to our destination without violating any religious laws.
We joyfully welcomed the Sabbath at the beautiful Ahrida Synagogue built in the 15th century, and featuring ornate wooden balconies and stained glass windows. Afterward, we were invited to a meal with a local family. The next day, we ventured over to the Neve Shalom synagogue where we prayed and shared a meal with the congregation.
It was amazing how auspicious our timing had been: 2000 was one of the rarest of years when the festivals of the three Abrahamic faiths — Christmas, Hanukkah, and Ramadan — all happened to coincide. The next time that will happen won’t be until 2030.
