Risky Business

His All Holiness, the Ecumenical Patriarch of the Orthodox Church Bartholomew I, the First Among Equals, has as his seat the Church of St. George. The cathedral has an unassuming location in the Fener district of Istanbul (or Constantinople as many of Greeks still controversially refer to it) and the compound is relatively small and unimpressive from the exterior. This seems odd, considering the church’s worldwide importance in Orthodox Christianity, but local laws demand that all non-Islamic buildings be more unimpressive than their Islamic counterparts. The inside of the building is very ornately decorated and is filled with icons and relics of saints. The front wall of the chapel is a glittering array of gold and bronze sculpting and iconoclasts. Orthodox Christians from all over the world sojourn here to worship and pray in this holy place. My own experience in this place was much more risqué…
One often hears of the potential dangerous of international travel. Stories of unaware Americans getting mugged by vicious street thugs, scammed by treacherous con-artists, or harassed by the local police fill the ear of any person stepping outside of the safety of the Land of the Free. It is easy to become paranoid that every dark corner harbors a bloodthirsty for’ner out to mess you up or that in every unlit alley lurks a mob of savages who want to beat you up and steal your passport so that they can go back to the U.S. and take your place in American society, with your unknowing family and friends simply thinking that you got a tan and picked up an accent on your travels, while you are left in a ditch to live in squalor in a foreign land.
I prepared myself to combat these evils (I did this by replaying in my mind every fight scene I had seen in the Bourne movies and mentally prepping myself to use these moves on anybody who tried to accost me… oh they would be sorry when I used a rolled-up Southern Living magazine to best them in hand to hand combat (all the while sharing the Good News with them (of course))) as I stepped alone onto a ferry that would take me to the European side of Istanbul earlier this week.
Once I made it safely to the other side of the Bosphorus, I bought a city map and set off walking to try to find the Church of St. George, all the while keeping a vigilante eye out for lurkers, keeping one hand on the rolled-up magazine holster at my hip, and going over in my mind how I was going to arrange a meeting with His All Holiness and single-handedly rectify Protestant and Orthodox relations throughout the world.
After quite a long walk, I found the church and approached the guard in the booth to ask him in a mix of English, broken-Turkish, grunts, and whistles if this was, in fact the Church of St. George. He said it was and pointed me to the door to the compound, I was still a little befuddled about which way to go. Sensing my confusion, a couple of Muslim girls with their heads covered helped to assist me in which way to go. Sensing that I was in the safety of the church walls, I finally let my guard down. That was a mistake. ..
As I walked into the cathedral the Muslim girls kept giggling and spouting off things to me in Turkish as they winked at me and rubbed my arm. It was clear that they didn’t intend to give their assistance away for free and I had a sneaking suspicion of how they wanted me to repay them. I doubted they took traveler’s checks.
They followed me around the cathedral for close to half an hour as I tried my best to elude them by stopping at places and pretending to read the Greek signs. That wasn’t working so I tried to tell them no just like the public service announcements say … ‘No means no!’ They just laughed at me. I was quickly running out of escape plans and I thought slapping them with a rolled up magazine was probably not the best course of action. Just as I was about to resort to using tears (manly tears, of course) a couple of Orthodox women walked in to pray. I used the momentary distraction to make my escape and hopped on the nearest bus to the safety of the more touristy areas.
I was prepared to wrestle a 300lb. knife-wielding thug but nobody had warned me that covered Muslim girls would also be lurking to pounce on unsuspecting American guys, even within the safety of the walls of one of the most important churches in the world one cannot find escape from their clutches. Needless to say the Church of St. George was very beautiful and if you ever travel there, I hope that you will have a more peaceful (and G-rated) time there.