Some cities shimmer with modern brilliance, others burn quietly with ancient light. Şanlıurfa—known to many simply as Urfa—is not just a place on a map. It is a cradle. A beginning. A city where the stones remember the first prayers of humanity, where prophets once walked under desert skies, and where stories carved into the earth whisper who we were before we even had names for ourselves.
To walk in Şanlıurfa is not just to travel. It is to listen—to time, to faith, to the soil, to the sigh of civilization. And above all, it is to be reminded that the path toward a more beautiful world begins with reverence.
A Land Older Than Memory
Urfa sits in southeastern Türkiye, in the warm arms of Upper Mesopotamia, where the Euphrates and Tigris rivers nurtured the world’s earliest agricultural communities. But even more astonishing than its fertile fields is what lies beneath them.
In 1994, a shepherd stumbled upon stones that would change our understanding of history. What he had found was Göbekli Tepe—now widely recognized as the world’s oldest known temple, built around 9600 BCE, long before Stonehenge or the Egyptian pyramids. Intricately carved pillars, depicting lions, scorpions, snakes, and abstract human forms, stand in circular sanctuaries—made not by farmers, but by hunter-gatherers, who came together not to survive, but to worship.
Göbekli Tepe suggests that humanity didn’t settle down and then find belief. We believed first. We gathered to remember something bigger than ourselves. And that gathering became civilization.
In Urfa, you don’t just walk through time. Time walks through you.
The City of Prophets
Şanlıurfa is called “the City of Prophets” for a reason. It is revered in the traditions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam alike. It is said to be the birthplace of the prophet Abraham (Ibrahim)—the spiritual forefather of billions—and a place where other prophets, such as Job (Eyyub) and Jethro (Şuayb), also lived and walked.
The heart of the city beats at Balıklıgöl—the Pool of Sacred Fish—believed by many to be the site where Abraham was cast into the fire by King Nimrod, only for the flames to turn into water and the burning coals into fish. Today, this peaceful pool glimmers beneath the ancient walls, filled with fat carp and watched over by pilgrims and children alike.
To stand by Balıklıgöl is to feel the deep tenderness of continuity—how people have carried love, faith, and hope across centuries without letting it slip through their fingers.
A Tapestry of Cultures and Colors
Urfa has always been a meeting place. Arab, Turkish, Kurdish, Armenian, Assyrian, and Yazidi communities have lived here, shaping a mosaic of cultures that exists not in opposition, but in harmony. You hear it in the music. You taste it in the food. You see it in the eyes of people who still greet strangers with generosity instead of suspicion.
The Urfa kebab, rich and smoky, is unlike anywhere else in Türkiye. The çiğ köfte, once raw and spicy, now served in its vegan version across the nation, was born here from ancient rituals. And the coffee—strong, thick, poured slowly—doesn’t just keep you awake. It keeps you rooted.
In Urfa’s bazaar, black scarves and embroidered dresses mix with plastic toys and pomegranates. The past is never far. But neither is joy. This is a city that teaches you how to hold contradiction with grace.
Music That Rises Like Prayer
Few cities in Türkiye sing like Urfa. Its musical tradition is ancient, filled with long, sorrowful melodies called gazel and sıra gecesi—intimate night gatherings where men sit in circles, share food, stories, and song. The oud, the saz, and the qanun speak of longing and love in ways that no language ever can.
These songs are not just entertainment. They are memory. They are medicine. They are how a people tell the truth without breaking each other.
Urfa teaches us: culture is not luxury—it is how we remain human through history.
Refuge and Resilience
In recent years, Şanlıurfa has opened its arms to hundreds of thousands of Syrian refugees fleeing war. It has not always been easy, but the people of Urfa—descended from prophets, steeped in stories of exile and return—understand the sacred duty of hospitality. Even as they face their own challenges, they build schools, clinics, and homes. They share.
Here, kindness is not performative. It is daily. Quiet. Costly. Real.
Let the World Learn from Urfa
Let us learn from Şanlıurfa that civilization began not with conquest, but with community. That before we built cities, we built circles. That before we had kings, we had altars. That in gathering around the sacred, we remembered our shared origin.
Let us build our futures like Urfa builds its tea houses—stone by stone, open to all, shaped by story.
Let us be brave like the shepherd who stumbled upon Göbekli Tepe—curious enough to look closer, humble enough to believe what he found.
Let us be kind like the people who greet refugees not with fences but with food.
Because the beauty of Şanlıurfa is not just in its monuments. It is in its way of seeing. In its insistence that we belong to one another, even when the world forgets.
Let us begin again—with Şanlıurfa.
Where the fire turns to water.
Where strangers become guests.
And where the first temple of humankind still whispers across the stones:
“Remember who you are. And come together.”