M-whY

From a tourist's point of view, this was actually convenient. Businesses remained open, allowing Warren and a Korean chap also sharing our dorm to visit the Topkapi Palace, and me to shop around travel agencies for something to do. I was set on taking in a performance tonight: Traditional Turkish dances, bellydancing, anything that someone might come to Turkey to see. Posters advertising whirling dervishes struck my fancy, and after making reservations, circled back to my hostel to wait until showtime.

The train station seemed like an unusual venue for a religious ritual; Whirling dervishes view spinning as representation of a union with God. Mevlana Rumi is considered the founder and saint of the Mevlevi Order, which professes to be established on the principles of love and tolerance. An ensemble of eleven musicians took the floor first, playing a number of Sufi music pieces. The concert lasted a little long for my taste. When they finished, they disappeared for a few moments and reemerged in new costumes. I had to stifle a giggle when seeing their hats. To me, it looked like they were wearing flower pots on their heads. Dervishes dressed in black cloaks came out and knelt on some sheepskin rugs while a passage from the Quran was recited. The drum struck a beat, the flute improvised a solo, the rest of the musicians joined in, and the sema (whirling ceremony) began.

Three times, the dervishes bowed to each other in front of another sheepskin rug. Then they removed their cloaks, crossed their arms on their chests, and in choreographed movements, spaced themselves out in the chamber and started whirling. The colorful skirts billowed as they spun and spun and spun. Right hand opened upwards to receive blessings from heaven, and left turned down to communicate them to earth, they maintained steady rotations with a serene expressions. The first cycle lasted a few minutes, and when they paused, I kept a watch out to see if any of the became lightheaded. If they were, they did a good job of hiding it. Four cycles in all, meaning a good half hour of spinning. I probably couldn't even last a quarter of that time.

The sema ended, and there was an awkward pause as the twenty of us watching wondered whether it was appropriate to clap. Someone broke the ice, and the dervishes were sent off with a respectful round of applause.

Whether these were real Mevlevi brothers, or merely professional dancers; Whether the whirling is genuinely spiritual, or simply a way to get dizzy; In the end, it doesn't really matter. Throughout human history, religion has often divided as well as united, and perhaps Mevlana Rumi had the right idea when he addressed people without regard for race, faith, sex, or nationality. For him, the difference in religions was only their forms of worship, and they all ultimately arrive at the same goal: Love. Makes sense to me, even if the incessant whirling doesn't!

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