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A flying carpet ride of memories

When we told friends and family of our plans to travel with our baby to Turkey, they were amazed.

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We had been in Istanbul, Turkey, for only a few days and already knew that we stood out. When the carpet sellers who lined the streets of the Sultanahmet, the city's ancient historic district, saw us from the back, they took note of my husband's close-cropped hair and yelled out, "Soldier! Soldierman! Mr. Army, Mr. Navy! Come inside and see a carpet. Maybe your pretty wife will like one, you buy it for her! Maybe not. You don't like, you need not buy, but come look!"

But when they got a good look at our fronts, with the small, wriggling bundle strapped to my husband's chest, they changed tactics. As soon as they saw our infant son held fast in his baby carrier - his eyes open wide and bright, taking in the extraordinary and beautiful city surrounding him - they took a slightly less aggressive approach.

One man walked toward us with his arms open wide and asked, "Please, excuse me, may I kiss your baby?" Others pulled photos of children and grandchildren from their wallets and invited us into the shop to see still more. Yet another seller asked us to come into his shop to see some carpets that he was sure our son would adore.

"Your son," the man said, giving us his best sales pitch, "he may not remember Turkey. I don't think so. But you will help him remember. Maybe the carpet will help him remember. I think, maybe yes."

Memory. This was a small point of contention with us. When we told friends and family of our plans to travel with our son to Turkey, our announcement was sometimes met with disapproval - and always with many questions: What will he eat? Where will he sleep? Won't the plane bother his ears? And the most-asked question: Why go through the hassle of taking the baby at all, when he won't remember the trip?

It was only this last question that we had some difficulty answering, wondering a bit about the answer ourselves.

On our last full day in the city, we went to explore the Ayasofya basilica. The baby had thus far been fascinated by Istanbul and, on this day, was just as intrigued with the immense interior of this building. It was considered the most beautiful Christian church in the world when it was completed in 537. Then, after the fall of Constantinople in 1453, it was converted into a mosque. In 1934 it was proclaimed a museum.

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