Next morning we realised that we had not negotiated the start of the day. Another Besime arrived, calling in to drop off a bucket of milk and to say hello. A little later the lady who assists Besime Teyse, Nevi, arrived. She was a sweet and practical person. The problem with using the dictionary to say things is that you only have a word in isolation. To say to Besime Teyse the word ‘Breakfast’ would have seemed like a command. With Nevi, I could use gestures to help her see our dilemma and she indicted that I should get some money and go shopping with her. Armed with breakfast items we returned, with Nevi bustling me out of the kitchen when I said in Turkish, "Breakfast assistant?"
The breakfast was plentiful and a real meal – sharing food is an important part of the culture here and time is not skimped. Before we started eating, Besime Teyse indicated that we should give Nevi some money for the trouble she was taking with us there, so Keith went out to the kitchen and pressed gave her some money, which she reluctantly accepted. Metin had returned to eat with us. Nevi joined us for a cup of tea and to be in charge of the double tea pot – the top one full of very strong tea and the bottom one with boiling water in it. We discussed the evening arrangements before we set off for the museum and a day out in Antakya.
We had expected that a city close to Syria, with a significant Arabic speaking population, would be more conservative in dress and manner. We were completely wrong. For the first time since Greece we were seeing women of all ages in mid length clothes, jeans, t-shirts and short hairstyles, along with some people with scarves added, usually behind the ears and in a more gypsy-like way. Girls, boys, men and women were all out and about, being Saturday, with lots of women running stalls in the bazaar and men looking after children.
Antakya has been the home of a religiously and culturally mixed population for over five hundred years. People live harmoniously together, accepting each others’ differences. There are some residential areas which are predominantly one group or another, but in the small area of this city, many neighbours come from the different groups. Metin and Besime Teyser have Arab background. When Metin was growing up he only spoke Arabic until he started school. It is law that only Turkish is spoken in schools, with the result that even in the playground, children were admonished for speaking Arabic. This was part of a program of assimilation and has led to a loss of language amongst some of the new generation of potential Arabic speakers. We had noted that signs at the Bus Station were in both Turkish and Arabic, however signs in the city were only in Turkish. Presumably the bus station was catering for Arabic speaking travellers from elsewhere - perhaps for Syrians.
Calling at the internet café on the way, we discovered that another couch surfer in Antakya, Koray, had made contact, so we decided to give him a call later, just to say "Hello."
The museum has an amazing collection of mosaics – fascinating to see the tiny size of each stone and how closely they were placed. The subjects were generally related to the Roman gods, birds and animals, or the seasons.
Some were enormous, displayed across the whole wall of a large room. On of our favourites was the one in which Eros (Cupid) is asleep, with his quiver hanging on a tree. Psyche is sneaking up to steal his arrows, with the intention to wreak havoc in the minds of the people she shoots. 
Another showed a ‘Happy Hunchback’ with an enormous penis, to the great delight of the many children visiting the museum. Not what you would probably put on the family room floor. 
Some were complex battle scenes. Sometimes such scenes had an edge around them which allowed about 4 cm of water to lie on top. Slight movement and sunlight produced the effect of movement in the battle scenes, when viewed through the water. Alas, the museum closed at 12, to reopen at 1.30, so we had to have a break in our visit.
Passing the statue of Ataturk (the ‘father’ of modern Turkey) on horseback, we went in search of some additional storage for our photos because the computer’s hard drive is nearly full.Next was a walk through the bazaar on our way to St Peter’s rock church. The shops, while thematic to some extent, were not in distinct districts of the bazaar, so each section was varied. It was busy and vibrant, with no tourist aspect at all.
The weather was quite hot and a strong wind had whipped up by the time we emerged from the line up of fruit and vegetable barrows, and ahead of us, rising sharply from the surrounding suburb, were steep mountains and rocks. St Peter’s church is carved into the rock and secret services were held there. St Luke is said to have owned the land where the church is found and, of course, Saint Paul was here in very early days helping to establish a Christian community. I have been thinking about St Paul, whose dedication to spreading the word, despite the opposition and difficulties, was incredible, and imagining him as a person. Maybe not so easy to be his family member, but certainly inspired.A souvenir stand and an ice-cream vendor were beaten from gaining our attention by primary aged children rushing us with single wildflowers and requests for money. Further up the hill, just before the stone building which acts as an entrance to the church, an old man had laid out his stock of small stone animals. The young man assisting him told us that there had been a rock fall in the church and that it was closed, maybe opening in a month. Later I was talking to some French ladies and one of them said that it was appropriate to have a rock fall – Pierre, as in St Pierre’s church, is the French word for stone. Maybe that was taking etymology too far but it was a nice connection.
We followed a small path along the rock face and saw the water channel carved out to allow weary travellers and worshippers to wash and refresh themselves and many niches, possibly for statues in early times. A teenage boy invited himself to come with us and started to tell us small snippets of information and to direct us along particular paths. When we told him we didn’t want a guide he disappeared. A tunnel led from one niche, with various openings showing that it continued for a very long way. Metin said later that the tunnel goes for a long way and no-one knows its destination. The views of the city showed an area thick with mosques and another, with very few. We picnicked on the side of the road, shaded by cypress trees and cooled by the breeze.
On our return trip through the bazaar we selected some gifts for Beseme Tayze – nail clippers, soaps made from olive oil and other plants and a large packet of Arabian tea. We made contact with Koray and arranged to meet him after our second bite of the museum.This bite included a section about the excavation of a settlement mound 20 metres high which had been excavated partially from the top and partially from the sides. It explained the difficulties in excavating multi-level sites, where the unearthing of the most recent has, in the past, led to its destruction when searching for the layers below. There was an excellent chronological display from Palaeolithic times to the fifteenth century AD, and it was easy to see similarities and differences over time.
There were more mosaics outside, along with pots and statues. One wall displayed mosaics that featured writing. Inside again, we saw a sarcophagus which was incredibly ornate, and which would have been ordered from a sculptor a long time before the death of its owner. The client had wanted a portrait of his own head to complete the generic reclining statue on the top of the lid, but when the sarcophagus was found there was simply a headless statue. An incomplete carving of a woman’s head was found also, thought to have been part of the same idea for his wife. Someone, perhaps money greedy heirs, obviously didn’t follow instructions.
While we were waiting for Koray, Metin turned up, so our two couch surfing connections were able to meet each other. We went with Koray to a bookshop café – what a dream place, and enjoyed a chat. Koray is an English teacher at the university, and has a keen interest in languages and cultures. He took us for a tour of the churches and old Ottoman buildings and reiterated the nature of Antakya as being one of many ideologies and religions co-existing in harmony. Koray showed us an item on the front of the newspaper which suggested that the Israeli Prime Minister could learn from how things are done in Hatay – the name of the province that Antakya is in. In ancient times, Antaya was the city of Antioch. At one point we were visiting the Catholic church, next door to a mosque and with a synagogue around the corner. It seemed to say it all.We raced home to give Besime Teyze her gifts, and then enjoyed the beautiful meal that had been prepared for us. Metin was there so, with his help, we were able to ask Besime Teyze about the entertainments of her childhood. She explained that the main entertainments were going to weddings and the New Year celebrations (New Year was celebrated on January 14th). Large families of six to ten children are still common in Turkey and were even more so in the past. During Besime’s childhood there were many weddings and they involved everyone. On the first day, the crowd went to the bride’s family home and both the bride and groom had red colour put on them. Next day was a barbecue hosted by the groom’s family and on the third day all the guests competed to bring delicious foods to the wedding feast. The celebration to mark the end of Ramadan each year was not such a big thing, although it was in larger cities.
The arches aren't golden but the brand is the same.
When the independent state of Hatay existed for a brief 20 years up to 1939 this was its parliament house. In 1939 the assembly voted to join Turkey - a decision not recognised by Syria to this day.
A fairly rare sight in any museum is a roman statue with its head intact.
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