It is impossible to travel in Turkey, revered by outsiders for its history spanning civilizations and intimate Mediterranean coastline, among so much more, and not see signs of the cultural conundrum that remains after 84 years of statehood. Yet debates about identity are most often muted, carried out in the press, in cafes, or in prisons. Turkey, a heavily policed country, is usually calm.
Visitors -- many million each year, from Russia and Britain, the United Arab Emirates and the United States, among others -- have little problem finding what they seek: rediscovery of long-gone empires, or escape where Europe and Asia meet.
It is in maneuvering between vacation destinations and historic sites that contemporary Turkey presents itself. Join the crowds of commuters on Bosporus ferries. Or walk the streets and wait: One evening, on the main avenue of Sanliurfa, two suit-wearing students asked where I was from. I said the United States.
"Would you like to come to our home for dinner," one said.
I bought an offering of baklava for the table. Then we settled around broiled chicken, olives, cheese, and conversation about everything from soldier strength to cellphone ring tones. It was nourishing.
For the historically minded seeking a sense of place, perhaps the best beginning comes in the dramatic terrain of Cappadocia , where striations of stone spike into so-called "ferry chimneys," and underground cities once sheltered early Christians.
Continue east to modern-day Sanliurfa, once called Urfa, and Edessa as well. It is said to be the birthplace of Abraham, and known to have been the first state formed by Europe's crusading Christians. The old city center is still home to an authentic bazaar, a stop on the Silk Road and long a crossroads for Arab, Kurdish, Persian, and Turkish traders. Craftsmen still shape copper pots with hammers, and merchants peddle everything from pigeons to refrigerators.
Adventurous time travelers can head farther east to Turkey's borders with Armenia and Iran, and Mount Ararat, the volcanic peak that rises more than 16,000 feet. Some say Noah's ark came to rest on Ararat.
