Topkapi

Palace of the Sultans and a seat of Ottoman power for hundreds of years, Topkapi palace promised to be a great place to soak up some history and immerse ourselves in stories of palace intrigue. It did not disappoint in either respect. Laid out over a spacious strip of land that looks out over the Bosphorous, Topkapi palace reminded me a lot of the Forbidden City in Beijing. The parallels were eery - no commoners were allowed past the first courtyard, both were home to courtesans that spent their entire lives without setting foot outside the palace walls, and both are stunning in architecture and scope.

Out of all the areas, I found the Harem to be one of the most fascinating (but then, what guy wouldn’t?) A variation of the Arabic word “Haram”, meaning forbidden, the Topkapi harem was massive, and at one time housed 500 of the sultan’s concubines. But to me the Harem buildings could only be described as a gilded cage – amazingly beautiful in the craftsmanship of its many residences and gatehouses, but completely enclosed and secluded from the rest of the already secretive palace. Women brought here could spend their entire lives and not see the Sultan once, and had to rely on intrigue and scheming to make it up the pecking order. Murders were not out of the question, and poisonings were commonplace. A dangerous place, indeed.

The Treasury was equally spectacular, but not for its architecture. Here, the jewels and finery on display were breathtaking. 86 carat diamonds, thrones inlaid with gold, emerald and ruby encrusted daggers – all bore testament to not only the craftsmanship and creativity of the Ottomans, but also of their ability to bring home impressive treasures from far-flung conflicts. Three vast rooms, with case upon case eventually wore us down – there’s only so much glitter one can take before depression sets in.

Finally, the rooms dedicated to religious relics were also a great stop. Among artifacts from Mecca and Medina lay a display that I found inspiring – swords of all four caliphs, surrounding that of the Prophet Muhammad’s. As a child, I grew up hearing stories of the incredible persecution these men had faced, and of how they had fought back with faith and conviction. To see the swords they used, each a reflection of their personality, was special. Omar’s and Ali’s were massive broadswords, whereas Abu Bakr’s and Uthman’s were smaller, more elegant. The Prophet’s? Simple.

Although a big part of me wanted to believe that all articles in the Religious Relics museum were real, at least two of them engendered skepticism. In one room, I had a tough time believing that I was looking at the actual wooden staff of Prophet Moses, perhaps in part due to the cheesy animation in the background that keep showing the parting of the Red Sea. And I was similarly skeptical of the “cooking pot of Abraham,” which looked suspiciously like any other metallic cooking vessel I had ever seen – except this one claimed to be millennia old and claimed a credible chain of possession that somehow had been traced back to its original owner.

But then, if those artifacts were not real, what about the imprint of the Prophet’s foot? And pieces of the Prophet’s beard (also on display)? And those swords I found so inspiring? I guess in the end the faithful choose to impart authenticity to their religious artifacts in defiance of logic, but is that so bad? Science will not convince these individuals otherwise, so let them believe in the authenticity of their religious relics, as long as these are used to magnify the positive of each faith. As for me, I think I’ll believe in the Swords, and ignore the Staff of Moses and the Cooking Pot of Abraham. Probably not consistent, but as I said, so what?

Harems, treasures, and relics. The all-day visit to Topkapi was exhausting, but was a complete experience that was absolutely worth it.