Deyrul Zafaran Monastery in Mardin
My next stop in Mardin was the Saffron Monastery, known as Deir-ul Zafaran (Mor Hananyo in Syriac, also known as the Monastery of St. Ananias).
The monastery is located a few kilometres outside the city of Mardin in the historic area of Tur Abdin. Nestled on a hill overlooking the surrounding plains, it was originally home to a temple dedicated to the Mesopotamian sun god Shamash, and was later converted into a Roman citadel. When the Romans withdrew from the area, it was transformed into a monastery and became the residence of the Assyrian Orthodox patriarchs for the next 640 years until 1932. This cemented its position as the center of the Orthodox Syrian sect. It takes its name from the saffron abundant in the region, as well as the warm hues of the stones used in the building.
If you want to go to the monastery, you can either drive or take a taxi, as there is no public transport available. After breakfast, I set off for the monastery. According to the map, it takes about an hour on foot from my hotel. However, even at this early in the morning, the weather has begun to become uncomfortable. Half an hour after departure, I decided to take a taxi to go and return. This proved to be a correct decision, as it turned out to be a 15-minute drive on a road without shade that winds through hills that are largely devoid of vegetation. Also, when we drove to the monastery, it was not yet open. I asked the driver to take me back to town so I could return later.
To my delight, the way back happened to pass by the Kasımiye Medrese Islamic School, which was an important attraction I wanted to visit. Built in the mid-to-late 15th century, the building is an outstanding example of Artuchid architecture, consisting of cut stones and bricks, very well preserved. A narrow hallway with vaulted ceiling leads to the entrance inside, where you can step into a large open courtyard that is two stories high. A fountain and a pool of water are right in the center, and the south-facing walls have huge arched windows, fixed with an iron fence. A short visit to this place is enough, but great photography can be taken here.
Finally, after we had a chance at several churches that had been closed due to the pandemic, I asked the driver to take me back to the monastery. By this time, it was already open, and a small group of tourists had reached the entrance on the shady walkway in front of it.
After crossing the main sill, you reach the bottom of a large flight of stairs. Climb up, walk through the door, and be sure to take a look at the panoramic views of the courtyards behind you and the surroundings of the complex. This door leads to a narrow passage with an open courtyard to your left and a series of rooms to your right. The yard is not big but well furnished. On one side are flower stands with two small wells in the middle, and flowering trees dot the entrances to the various cells. The benches are strategically placed on the edge, making it an ideal location to sit and rest for a few minutes and soak up the tranquility of the surroundings. Just to the right of the inner entrance, is the entrance to a small courtyard and cellar. This large room with sunken grooves was used by worshippers when the site became a temple of the sun.
After the tour, I walked back to the reception and asked if the local guide could call a taxi for me. They agreed and, while I waited, very kindly insisted that I share their lunch with them, lahmacun (Turkish minced meat crepes) and yogurt dips.
Beautiful view of the streets of Mardin's old town
Tea and dinner on the rooftop
Back in town, there was littleone on the streets due to a curfew on weekends. Although it's hot outside, it's a great opportunity to explore the main street as there are usually a lot of people during the day. Descending from the main square, I saw the Şeyh Çabuk Mosque, a 13th-century mosque. It is said to be home to the grave of Hazrat Abdullah bin Anas, which is located in a low hall. After a short visit and a quick prayer, I walked out again, this time in the direction of Zinciriye Medresesi. It was uphill on the main street, so I had some ice cream at Sadık Künefe first. Their orange ice cream with plenty of preserves on top was very tasty.
As it turned out, Zinciriye Theological Seminary was closed on Sunday. A group of college-like friends passed by, and I asked them when they would open the door. They told me it would be closed until the next morning. I was hot and needed a drink, and I was getting ready to go back, when the girls asked me if I would like to have tea with them, and the men nodded enthusiastically in encouragement. I agreed, it would be a fantastic decision. We walked a few steps down the street to a café where the girl's mother was also waiting for them. The place itself is an airy rooftop canteen located right at the top of the old town with miles of panoramic views.
We sat on benches under the colorful umbrella shed. While drinking tea and eating snacks, I found that they were all tourists of Mardin. They asked questions about life in general in Pakistan and why I decided to visit Turkey. From time to time, the conversation would shift from a serious topic to a hilarious joke, usually caused by a poorly translated sentence or the youngest guy brazenly trying to get me and his bodybuilder brother together. After more than an hour, we reluctantly parted ways. I had a truly wonderful time with them and I hope that this memory of what we spent there will somehow be passed on to them and a token of gratitude.
Traditional stone houses in the old town of Mardin
After coming down, I went back to the hotel and rested before dinner. Dinner was at the Doboo Restaurant, a restaurant on the roof by a woman named Dilek. The candlelit terrace and the delicacies of lamb with rice, çiğ köfte (raw meatballs) and kibbeh (traditional dishes made with whole grains and chopped onions) are hard to beat. Dilek personally oversees the cooking of each dish (which she explains is a family recipe) and mingles with all the guests. While I was eating, she and I discussed Mardin's history and local cuisine, and I quickly formed the impression that she was a respected local. Upon learning that I had had a brief but unpleasant experience before dinner, she insisted on accompanying me back to the hotel because there was a strange man sitting at my desk and calling herself the owner. After she dropped me back in my room and asked me to come for lunch the next day, we said goodnight.
Unfortunate events and the discovery of victories
The next day was Monday, and I was planning a day trip to the city of Diyarbakır, which could be reached by public transport in an hour. The universe, however, has other plans. Breakfast is served in our hotel on the terrace; As I went downstairs with my phone in hand, preparing for my future trip, I lost my center of gravity on the crumbling edge of an old stone staircase. This caused me to suffer a back injury that drove any thoughts about travel straight out of my mind.
After lying in pain in the room for an hour, I decided I had had enough. I took a few painkillers, just enough to relieve the pain slightly, and walked out of the hotel towards the 14th-century Zinciriye complex. This may not be the wisest thing to do, because Mardin needs to climb or descend stairs to go anywhere, and now every step is painful. But the other option was to waste the rest of my time, so I made an obvious choice.
See the beautiful landscape of the ancient city of Mardin from the Zinciriye complex
After walking many flights of stairs, I came to the seminary and walked in. Unfortunately, the building is largely unattended. As a place with a unique architectural style, it is frustrating to see parts of the place overgrown with weeds and small pools filled with stagnant water. However, as I climbed up to the roof of the two-story floor, the sight in front of me threw all other thoughts out of the clouds: this was the place where the video of "6 Days" was filmed, the place where I met a place called Mardin, and I finally found it! I was overjoyed and hurried to look for it. Ecstatic, I raced around the rooftops to take photos of its majestic Twin Tombs and make videos of the cliff-lined hillside overlooking the plain below.
Having had enough of this place, I carefully climbed down and returned to the main road in search of refreshments. There was a small pastry shop there and I tried dark chocolate and blackberry ice cream. The kind owner Beşir Bali asked me where I came from. When he learned that I was from Pakistan, he smiled and brought me a bottle of cold water, followed by a plate of baklava and a glass of lemonade. While we were chatting, I gratefully ate everything. But when I wanted to pay, he disagreed, insisting that he could not accept payment from guests from his brother's country. This spirit of enthusiasm and generosity is truly touching.
After a while, I went back to Doboo for lunch, and it was Dilek who greeted me with a smile. She ordered me a plate of minced courgettes (which were very good food as expected) and asked me how I was doing today. From time to time she stood up to direct her staff, who were busy setting up a surprise marriage proposal ceremony in a corner of the terrace. After stubbornly refusing to let me pay for lunch, she wished me good luck when I said goodbye and asked me to come here if I came back to town.
I decided to finish work early and go back to my hotel. As I walked, I reflected on my various experiences. From the moment I stepped into Mardin, I was fortunate enough to experience the world of mercy, and those unpleasant examples were merely moments. It was both humbling and uplifting, and it certainly made the visit memorable in many ways.
As I looked at my travel plans to Şanlıurfa the next day, it occurred to me that there was so much to mention about the rest of the trip in terms of the hospitality I had received so far.
(To be continued)