I think I've mentioned before that Ankara is home to Kocatepe Camii (pronounced Ko-jah-teh-peh Jah-mee), the largest mosque in Turkey. Whenever I rattle off the fact that it's big, my Turkish friends inevitably attach a second clause to that statement: "BUT it is not historical."
Yes, it's only about thirty years old, and therefore not quite worthy of the admiration given to more historical mosques. But it's huge, beautiful, and located on a large hill from which it's visible all over town. The mosque is actually only a few blocks from my school, and some of the classrooms face it directly, giving us a really spectacular view, especially during evening classes.
Yes, it's only about thirty years old, and therefore not quite worthy of the admiration given to more historical mosques. But it's huge, beautiful, and located on a large hill from which it's visible all over town. The mosque is actually only a few blocks from my school, and some of the classrooms face it directly, giving us a really spectacular view, especially during evening classes.
The most noticeable aspect of living in a city full of mosques is the call to prayer, the ezan, that emanates from the minarets five times a day. Islam requires its followers to pray five times a day, with the idea that continually reminding yourself of God's presence keeps him in the center of your mind throughout the day. To that end, a chorus of Arabic chants circulates the city every few hours, and with the high concentration of mosques it's difficult to miss, although you might eventually learn to sleep through the dawn ezan. Kocatepe has a particularly powerful PA system, and the ezan has become a regular feature of my weekend afternoon class, since it drowns out most other sounds in my classroom. However, the timing of the ezan depends on the sunrise and sunset, and changes slightly every day, so I can't quite use it to gauge the time of day.
I actually find this frustrating, as part of me would like the ezan to be more of a clock, notifying me that it's now 2:00 or whatever. But Islamic prayer requires more vigilance. The only way to know for sure ahead of time when to pray is to keep a calendar like this on your fridge:
Or you could use the internet.
While many Turks don't adhere strictly to the mandate of prayer on a daily basis, Friday is a different story. Noon prayers on Friday are the Islamic equivalent of Sunday morning church, when most devout Muslims go to the mosque. And if you can't get to a mosque, there are always groups of people with prayer rugs set up under bridges or in the metro station. I was less aware; the fact that it's Friday had totally escaped my mind when I went out rambling through Ankara this morning, armed with a video camera and the goal of recording some tidbits of daily life. But it so happened that while I was walking down the street, I heard the familiar voice of the Kocatepe muezzin, inviting believers to come pray. I looked up, and realized that I was only a couple blocks away from the mosque, so I ran up just in time to catch the last bit of the ezan on camera.
I actually find this frustrating, as part of me would like the ezan to be more of a clock, notifying me that it's now 2:00 or whatever. But Islamic prayer requires more vigilance. The only way to know for sure ahead of time when to pray is to keep a calendar like this on your fridge:
Or you could use the internet.
While many Turks don't adhere strictly to the mandate of prayer on a daily basis, Friday is a different story. Noon prayers on Friday are the Islamic equivalent of Sunday morning church, when most devout Muslims go to the mosque. And if you can't get to a mosque, there are always groups of people with prayer rugs set up under bridges or in the metro station. I was less aware; the fact that it's Friday had totally escaped my mind when I went out rambling through Ankara this morning, armed with a video camera and the goal of recording some tidbits of daily life. But it so happened that while I was walking down the street, I heard the familiar voice of the Kocatepe muezzin, inviting believers to come pray. I looked up, and realized that I was only a couple blocks away from the mosque, so I ran up just in time to catch the last bit of the ezan on camera.
And yes, that's only the very last bit. The Friday noon ezan lasts a good four to five minutes. That's not a recording, either; there's a trained muezzin up there five times a day chanting.
I felt perfectly comfortable standing outside while others went in to pray, but I was surprised to see what looked like a military funeral out in the courtyard past what you can see in the video. A coffin sat out in front, with a Turkish flag draped over it, and soldiers standing round guarding it, while a large group of people in uniforms sat in rows facing the coffin. I had to walk past this funeral to get where I needed, but soon discovered that there were soldiers with large guns surrounding the place, and a tank parked in the street. Now I am curious as to whose funeral this was.
I'm hoping to post more videos soon of other glimpses into life here in Ankara, now that the weather's getting nicer and it's actually fun to go on a walkabout with a camera.
I felt perfectly comfortable standing outside while others went in to pray, but I was surprised to see what looked like a military funeral out in the courtyard past what you can see in the video. A coffin sat out in front, with a Turkish flag draped over it, and soldiers standing round guarding it, while a large group of people in uniforms sat in rows facing the coffin. I had to walk past this funeral to get where I needed, but soon discovered that there were soldiers with large guns surrounding the place, and a tank parked in the street. Now I am curious as to whose funeral this was.
I'm hoping to post more videos soon of other glimpses into life here in Ankara, now that the weather's getting nicer and it's actually fun to go on a walkabout with a camera.
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