A curtain was pulled back and figures emerged from darkness in a shaft of light—a half dozen cloaked musicians with medieval instruments. They arranged themselves on rugs, the light faded out, and the sounds of reeds, drums and unfamiliar string instruments filled the dark confined space. It was surprising how these primitive devices could create such a palpitating mood of expectation.
My mouth was dry as the volcanic rock surrounding me. Moments earlier, I’d entered the cave and passed through a tunnel that widened into a circular arena. Outside, the air had been uncomfortably warm, but the blistering heat couldn’t reach through tons of insulating rock. I was in Cappadocia to see the famous Whirling Dervishes.
Apprehension had nearly prompted me to cancel my trip to Turkey, a secular country with a 99.8 % Moslem population. Back home in the States, Islam was perceived as a religion whirling into fanaticism and violence, with far too many people painting all Muslims with the same brush. I’d come to explore this religion for myself.
As a kid, I’d fling out my arms and spin around as quickly as I could until I was so dizzy I’d collapse on our front lawn. Was that what this was about? Watching grown men in skirts spin around without getting dizzy?
A voice in broken English admonished us against taking pictures until after the ceremony. The Dervishes entered, dressed in black but for their towering beige camel-hair hats. They appeared to be glowing, as if light emanated from them. To deepen my experience I’d recently read about the Dervishes, and learned that their monastic life was outlawed in the 1930s by Atatürk, founder of the modern Turkish republic. Atatürk maintained that young Turkish men shouldn’t be hidden away in monasteries. He wanted the country to shift its attention from religion to the progressive ways of the West, but his secular vision for Turkey was rapidly coming under attack.
The Dervishes bowed to the empty hat on far side of the circular stage, their tall hats (tombstones for the ego) seeming to defy gravity by staying on their heads when touched to the ground. According to our guide, the bow was to honor Mevlânâ, their thirteenth century spiritual leader. Mevlânâ, creator of the Whirling Dervishes, was said to have whirled for two full days. It was his belief that the fundamental condition of existence was to revolve. He knew the world to be made of revolving atoms, knew that blood revolved within the bodies of men and animals and understood the revolving nature of the planets and stars. His achievement was to acknowledge and embrace this feature of existence through an act of homage—whirling.
They looked exposed when they removed their black cloaks, as if the whiteness beneath was not only purity but vulnerability. Lined up, they acknowledged each other, and slowly, one by one began to spin in the confines of the cave, giving the impression of dropping into a fathomless void like falling snowflakes. We sat close enough to feel the uplift of wind from their skirts as they spun in the same direction as the Earth on its axis, one hand pointed upward to receive the blessings of Allah while the other was turned downward to pour Allah’s blessings onto the people. Nothing was kept for themselves. Their simple gestures filled my soul with gratitude.
I finally understood that this was not a performance, it was a ritual, a re-creation of infinity and creation, a thousand year old version of a high energy particle accelerator
operating in the bosom of the Earth.
No one has ever been able to point out for me the differences between Allah and God, and I’ve come to assume that, if there are any, they’re insignificant. I can’t claim to know what these Whirling Dervishes believe, what thoughts animate their spirits, but their sincere commitment to Allah and His universe lead me to accept that they’ve achieved a harmony with existence that I can only imagine. I might not understand their beliefs, just as I don’t understand many of the tenets of my own religion, but this manifestation of faith made me feel strong and hopeful that the pendulum of religious hostility outside this cave might one day swing in the direction of peace and tolerance for people everywhere.
The thought was enough to set me whirling.
Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Gratitude Travel Writing competition and tell your story.
This article was fascinating–thank you, Stephen!!
A perfect memory for the season. Very insightful.
So, were the Whirling Dervishes followed by the Screaming Meemies?
“So, were the Whirling Dervishes followed by the Screaming Meemies?”
HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
~shoes~
Wonderful piece for this season. I wish we all spread Allah or God in twirling goodness all year long. 🙂
the openness with which you view the world and its inhabitants is refreshing and beautiful.
I’ve been following CC for a couple of years now and I love his writing. AND his traveling. I think he’s been everywhere. You go, Stephen!
I love this article. It’s beautifully written and so interesting.
Thoroughly enjoyed reading about your experience. I felt as if I was transported there myself.
What a fabulous story. You’re a fine writer.
A wonderful image, and a wonderful idea. Love the writing, and the photos.
Excellent article- informative and well written.
I really appreciated the idea that this dance is a re-creation of infinity and creation.
It sounds like a beautiful ritual, thank you for the excellent message at this time of year.
Whew! I’m dizzy just from reading about it. I love your travel stories. I can go around the world in my La-Z-Boy.
Stephen Hayes knows how to paint a picture with a pen in hand. This was excellent!
i think seeing anyone lost in worship…regardless of the god they choose
is quite a beautiful thing…
A magnificent capture of a time, place and the power of a moment. You made it vivid and told a fascinating story.
Thanks!
great article
Stephen writes the most wonderful stories…
I never tire of reading them…
~shoes~
What a wonderfully told tale, with a beautiful depth of respect and understanding.
Fascinating!