My First Mosque Experience in Istanbul

I chose to go to Turkey because it had always been on my list of places I wanted to visit but hadn’t crossed off yet. I went with Pishoi, my fiancé, who had proposed just two weeks before the trip. We wanted to celebrate our love and engagement before life got crazy with wedding planning and business. We traveled at the end of April into early May.

The first thing that blew my mind was the size of Istanbul. Even looking at it on a map, the city seemed enormous. Then you look out and see it going on and on. You can walk, take public transit or drive, but it just keeps going. I also hadn’t realized before arriving that Istanbul stretched across two continents. It’s so massive that its public transit system reminded me of Toronto or New York. The weather was perfect. It was not too hot or too cold, but cool enough for a sweater in the evening.

One of the first things I noticed was how the men took time to sit outside, maybe with a cigarette in hand, which is much better than a vape in my opinion, but anyway. With small cups of Turkish coffee, they talked and took in the streets like a scene from a classic movie. The neighborhoods were walkable, with shops and restaurants near homes, detailed stone buildings and hilly streets. Families walked together, enjoyed the sea and sunshine or sat on park benches. Life felt more relaxed.

We called a taxi and asked the driver to drop us off near Ortaköy Square. He was kind, and his English was much better than my nonexistent Turkish. I appreciated how often Turkish people went out of their way to speak English with us, even though I hadn’t taken enough time to learn more words before visiting their country. Anyway, he talked with us, offered tips and even taught us how to handle haggling at the market.

The square was full of life, with tourists and locals everywhere, but everyone still seemed relaxed. The vendors kindly said, “Hello! Would you like to look?” But if we said no, they simply smiled, waved and let us continue walking. There was no pressure at all.

At one stall, two men were deep in conversation, which was something else I kept noticing: people actually took time to hang out and talk with their friends or coworkers in real life. I interrupted to ask about a purse, and the price was unbelievably fair.

We continued along a row of food stands where all the vendors smiled and waved. It reminded me of the fair, with one food option lined up after another. Two sweet young women working at a potato stand caught my attention. They prepared the baked potato in the Turkish tradition, dressing it up with different ingredients. We made friends, exchanged Instagrams and I walked around happily enjoying my potato. Then we reached the mosque.

By the time we reached Ortaköy Mosque, it was nighttime. The mosque was white, and I could still see its minarets beneath a sky lit with stars. Behind it, the bridge glowed blue over the water. I took off my shoes and looked around for instructions until someone kindly pointed me in the right direction. I had brought a scarf to cover my hair because I had researched what I needed to do before entering a mosque.

The interior was beautiful but humble in its own way. Women knelt in prayer with their heads bowed to the ground, and I could visually see how deeply they trusted God and how much they cared about the people they were praying for. I thought about how these were moms and daughters, likely praying for their families. They were good women who loved God, just as someone from another country or religion loves God and simply wants to live as a good person. They believed in what they were doing and took the actions to live out their faith fully.

For much of my life, I had been taught not to explore religions outside the Christian church I grew up in. Finally standing inside a mosque and witnessing such an intimate, holy moment brought me to tears.

It felt like the perfect ending to the mosque visit. Stepping outside, I saw these families in real time. They were the answers to other people’s prayers. Kids were running around, happy couples were sitting together and families on vacation were taking pictures. It felt wholesome, almost like a holiday, except this was simply another night outside the mosque beneath the bridge. That first night taught me how large Istanbul was, not only in size, but in heart.