Snowboarding on Mt. Erciyes in Cappadocia, Turkey by Tim Ghazzawi:
When people ask me if I snowboard, my answer is never straightforward. It usually goes something like: “Well, I’ve been on a board before…” and the confidence in my voice melts away like winter. For years I’ve enjoyed the occasional mountain vacation with friends, opting to spend more time in the cabin than on the slopes. Needless to say I’m not very good at snowboarding which is why I didn’t plan to do much of it on these travels, least of all in Turkey. Poetically, the idea to snowboard came to me while standing on the bank of Lake Nar. The word “nar” in Turkish means pomegranate. In Old Turkish, “nar” means fire. I saw neither pomegranates nor fire from the lake but I did see snow on the distant Mt. Melendiz and its surrounding hillsides. Rising 10,000 feet out of Cappadocia’s lunar landscape, the mountain peak seized my attention and wouldn’t let it go. The snow became a wonderland my inner child could not resist.
Though I’d been in Turkey only one week, I’d already become accustomed to being surprised by the country’s offerings, starting in Istanbul, an improbable city, best described as a series of dichotomies:
Istanbul is both Asian and European, formerly Greek then Ottoman and now a blend of Turkish and Kurdish. People sprinkle Arabic words into their daily speech. They practice Islam and Christianity. Some women let their hair flow freely and others conceal theirs in tightly wound hijabs. Over-sized sea birds fly above the Bosporus while cats lounge on cobblestone streets. Chunks of meat drip from rotating skewers and delicate desserts made of pomegranate and pistachios line storefront windows. The only unifying thing about Istanbul is that everyone smokes cigarettes there.
I’d barely begun to make sense of Istanbul’s interworkings when I left for Cappadocia in central Turkey. Having been rightly transfixed by its snow-capped peaks, I made arrangements the next day to visit Mt. Erciyes, the region’s highest volcano and home to a popular ski resort. To save money I tried getting there via public transportation. It didn’t help that the word “kayak” in Turkish means “ski”. I thought I was being helpful and polite by speaking Turkish when I said to the bus driver, “I want to kayak.” It’s never a good sign when a driver deboards before you do. We arrived at the last stop and I was an hour away from the mountain with neither a place to ski nor kayak in sight. At that point I needed a taxi but, before hailing me one, the bus driver ordered us cups of Turkish tea, which we enjoyed together in silence. When I finally made it to the mountain, changed into winter gear and strapped on my snowboard, I had time for only one run down the slopes. From the top, I looked out onto the icy white, the rolling snow-dusted hills, and the city beyond. The wind bristled around my jacket collar and my knees braced for the inevitable impact of my falls. I wondered what would happen if Erciyes erupted at that very moment. Do I snowboard? I’d ask myself. I guess I would have no choice but to answer: Yes.
A fun coincidence: one of my favorite books of all time happens to be titled Snow and is written by the Turkish author Orhan Pamuk. It’s not about snowboarding but rather about the equally light topic of secularism vs. religious rule. Still a recommended read.
