Photo comparison: culture through the eyes of a foreigner

Rome is defined by its churches. As the center of Roman Catholicism, this is to be expected, but it is striking nevertheless. I wandered through the streets frequently during my four weeks in Rome, and I was constantly awed to find churches where I least expected them. I repeatedly found myself suddenly standing in front of a massive facade dedicated to God, like at Santa Maria della Pace, which I stumbled on one day without knowing its significance. Other churches crept up on me less but were just as demanding of immediate attention, like St. Peter's. There is absolutely no way for a human to deny the power of St. Peter's Basilica, which is covered from floor to ceiling with marble, statues, gold, and mosaics. It justly deserves the reverence shown by the millions of visitors that pass through Rome.


However, I find the piazza just as interesting (see photo above). It is a massive piece of architecture and a monument to the achievements of the 17th century. I would love to be present when the square is full of people, anticipating a glimpse of the Pope, and to participate in an experience that reaches far beyond myself. Standing at the center, I felt small and insignificant, a single person at a single small point in time. The authority of Rome is centered at this spot, even more than at the decaying Roman Forum. I merely felt honored to be present at a location of such power and beauty. Indeed, I believe that St. Peter's Piazza and Basilica were my favorite sites in all of Rome.

When we arrived in Istanbul, we transitioned from visiting churches to visiting mosques, and the shift was abrupt. While the largest churches in Rome were just as imposing to the casual eye from a distance as the mosques, the approaches to the structures were radically different. Instead of walking directly toward the entrance through a man-made testament to the power of God, we entered a mosque (such as the Blue Mosque and the Sehzade Mehmet Mosque) by a circuitous route through the outer courtyard, a beautiful garden (see photo below). The most shocking aspect of this was the amount of green: grass, trees, and flowers. I had never felt that Rome lacked nature until that point. The first courtyard of a mosque is a place that I could see myself coming to relax and read a book; even in the inner courtyard, which is more artificial but still small and comforting, I might pass my time. I would never feel comfortable doing that in front of a church (especially St. Peter's). Perhaps the difference is representative of the fundamental division of Catholicism from Islam: Catholicism is a centralized, institutionalized religion, whereas Islam is more decentralized and without a focal figure like the Pope. As a result, Islam is more about individual communities than Catholicism is. In Istanbul, mosques bring people together through their complexes and courtyard common spaces.

As a foreigner, my views of Rome and Istanbul are tinged with preconceptions. But for me, the treatments of the cities' great religious buildings reveal a profound split in cultures. Rome is a living embodiment of past and present magnificence, and its monumental architecture glorifies God and the Popes. Istanbul is a forward-looking city that simultaneously adheres to a paradigm of close communities, and the garden courtyards mirror that. Each is unique, and I'm immensely glad that I had the opportunity to visit them both.