It's like there's a funk in Istanbul. You can't quite put your finger on what makes it so unusual. My friend Leanne would love to point her finger in my face and tell me it's the melancholy described by Turkish Nobel Prize winning author Orhan Pamuk in his book "Istanbul" (which I'm reading). While there's something I detest about the idea of communal melancholy, I'm coming to believe that perhaps its true.
Istanbul is very serious. There doesn't seem to be an overriding cohesion, It's orderly chaos. Public transportation hums along, but as soon as the tram passes, men pulling large boxes on carts begin walking in the middle of the streets again. And at semi-regulated five-way street mergers, who knows who has the right of way. Pedestrians seem to feel they have the right to walk anywhere anytime until someone in a car decides he's let enough pedestrians push him around....
We still have much of Istanbul to see, but so far - I still feel as though I just can't get my arms around it. Most cities are so easy. It doesn't take more than a few minutes in Paris to get that it's a city of art, culture and beauty sculpted by kings and celebrating the first and for many years strongest secular European power. An hour in Hong Kong and you feel the energy and synergy of the natural synthesis of East and West. And everyone knows about one night in Bangkok....
But Istanbul isn't so clear about its intentions. People are teeming. Things are happening all over the place. It's just not forthcoming with exactly what it's all about. Whatever it is, it's not about celebration or reaching up to the heavens or even taking care of business.
In fact, Emily and I were discussing that although we started our trip in Turkey back in July, that Istanbul feels like a completely different world than the Mediterranean cities. Antalya had an identity linked clearly to the water, sun, trade and a past of rich traditions. People felt happy and well...normal.
We have until November 1st to figure out Istanbul. And like a psychologist presented with an undiagnosed schizophrenic, I have questions. Nothing in my reading has given me the full range of answers I seek - so there's only one thing to do (and it's what we're here to do anyway), engage the subject.
Since Emily was trapped at Heathrow most of the day Saturday, we decided to spend the day working so that we could explore Istanbul on Monday. As befits any psychological examination, we began at the Grand Bazaar.
I expected something like the old market in Akko, Israel. Emily expected something more makeshift feeling like the Thursday street market in Alanya. What we found was a structure that to me resembled the market in Jerusalem, only cleaned up and gentrified to the point of being a hair shy of a mall. Prices were completely retail and the "stalls" were really shops. Veni, vidi, vici and we were out of there.
We made our way down narrow, cobblestone streets among heavy crowds through blocks of clothing and handbag shops. There were mostly locals and we had no real idea where everyone was going or what they were doing in the middle of the day on these narrow roads which were filled by pedestrians until the occasional motorcycle or car decided to barrel down the road.
There were a surprising number of shops specializing in wedding dresses and other "formal" attire which included dresses we didn't guess would fit with a Muslim society. The tight fitting, bright colored, somewhat revealing dresses practically sparkled in the shop windows as women in conservative attire and headscarves walked along the streets. It seemed so odd.
Eventually we made our way down to the old Spice Bazaar which looked a lot more like the market in Akko. The old building was dark, inside with high, arched ceilings and a feeling of being a place of trade for centuries. Instead of being lit up by bright halogens, the market glowed with the warm and vibrant colors of spices. Smells swirled around and Turkish delight vendors offered samples. Mounds of spices, teas, and candies lined the rows and created a feast for the eyes. Here I could imagine the bustling trade of the old Istanbul where spices were indeed at the heart of East-West exchange. Once upon a time, this largely tourist market was a powerhouse of commerce.
Of course, in all of these markets, keeping the aggressive vendors at bay is one of the major activities of the excursion. Whether walking through the Grand Bazaar or down the street below our hotel at dinner time, we are just wildebeest to their lions' hunt. One has to be as light-footed and quick as a gazelle to escape the jaws of "Why not?! You just come look!", "You already ate? That's okay, you just come have a drink. Sit!" and "I have a jacket in your size - here, try it on!" One has to be mindful of which path he or she walks down, lest one stir the wild and hungry leather salesman.
After a brief trip through the Spice Bazaar, we were ready for a change of scene and activity. There's only so much Bazaar one can handle in a day. For more than half a year, we've been waiting to see "Eat Pray Love" and found ourselves in places that either didn't have it yet or where we had no movie theater - until now.
Obviously, "Eat Pray Love" has certain similarities to our own journey.... India and Bali being major stops on our route. We may not have gone to Italy, but we ate plenty in Greece. Liz Gilbert's travel around the world involved exactly the same sequence of regions as our trip. Given that everyday, I write this blog - there are some fun parallels. Many times I have imitated the movie trailer and said to Emily, "First you will lose everything (us putting everything away in storage). Then you will get it all back (the stuff we buy) and then you will return to Bali and I will teach you everything I know! (which isn't very much)."
So, a tram and funicular ride took us to the fancy and very beautiful Beyoglu area where we found our movie theater. Istekal Cadessi is like the Third Street Promenade of Istanbul. Shopping and restaurants run for blocks along a pedestrian street that in its 19th Century heyday was considered to be like a little piece of Paris in Istanbul where the elite went to be seen. Today, it has a mixture of nice shops, several movie theaters, three Burger Kings, two Pizza Huts, one KFC and one Starbucks. Afternoons and evenings, crowds fill this area to capacity and we felt as if we had hit the most popular place in the city.
Once we started exploring the interesting, narrow, cobblestone side streets filled with restaurants, small shops and hotels overlooking old neighborhoods leading down to the Golden Horn which could be seen clearly below. The beautiful old - although often very aged - houses and apartment buildings are gorgeous and beckoned Emily to photograph them. The interesting textures and shapes of the old Beyoglu neighborhoods are a pool of fascination.
After the movie we made our way back to our area through the Autumn rain and got a quick dinner.
By the end of the day, we had seen old and older, European and Middle Eastern, crowded and more crowded, and chaotic and more chaotic. People were everywhere doing everything. There were some areas clearly more touristy than others and places that made more and less sense to us. But the essence of Istanbul still eluded me. I remain ever watching, ever mindful, ever seeking to make sense of this strange mix of peoples and history.
Istanbul is very serious. There doesn't seem to be an overriding cohesion, It's orderly chaos. Public transportation hums along, but as soon as the tram passes, men pulling large boxes on carts begin walking in the middle of the streets again. And at semi-regulated five-way street mergers, who knows who has the right of way. Pedestrians seem to feel they have the right to walk anywhere anytime until someone in a car decides he's let enough pedestrians push him around....
We still have much of Istanbul to see, but so far - I still feel as though I just can't get my arms around it. Most cities are so easy. It doesn't take more than a few minutes in Paris to get that it's a city of art, culture and beauty sculpted by kings and celebrating the first and for many years strongest secular European power. An hour in Hong Kong and you feel the energy and synergy of the natural synthesis of East and West. And everyone knows about one night in Bangkok....
But Istanbul isn't so clear about its intentions. People are teeming. Things are happening all over the place. It's just not forthcoming with exactly what it's all about. Whatever it is, it's not about celebration or reaching up to the heavens or even taking care of business.
In fact, Emily and I were discussing that although we started our trip in Turkey back in July, that Istanbul feels like a completely different world than the Mediterranean cities. Antalya had an identity linked clearly to the water, sun, trade and a past of rich traditions. People felt happy and well...normal.
We have until November 1st to figure out Istanbul. And like a psychologist presented with an undiagnosed schizophrenic, I have questions. Nothing in my reading has given me the full range of answers I seek - so there's only one thing to do (and it's what we're here to do anyway), engage the subject.
Since Emily was trapped at Heathrow most of the day Saturday, we decided to spend the day working so that we could explore Istanbul on Monday. As befits any psychological examination, we began at the Grand Bazaar.
I expected something like the old market in Akko, Israel. Emily expected something more makeshift feeling like the Thursday street market in Alanya. What we found was a structure that to me resembled the market in Jerusalem, only cleaned up and gentrified to the point of being a hair shy of a mall. Prices were completely retail and the "stalls" were really shops. Veni, vidi, vici and we were out of there.
We made our way down narrow, cobblestone streets among heavy crowds through blocks of clothing and handbag shops. There were mostly locals and we had no real idea where everyone was going or what they were doing in the middle of the day on these narrow roads which were filled by pedestrians until the occasional motorcycle or car decided to barrel down the road.
There were a surprising number of shops specializing in wedding dresses and other "formal" attire which included dresses we didn't guess would fit with a Muslim society. The tight fitting, bright colored, somewhat revealing dresses practically sparkled in the shop windows as women in conservative attire and headscarves walked along the streets. It seemed so odd.
Eventually we made our way down to the old Spice Bazaar which looked a lot more like the market in Akko. The old building was dark, inside with high, arched ceilings and a feeling of being a place of trade for centuries. Instead of being lit up by bright halogens, the market glowed with the warm and vibrant colors of spices. Smells swirled around and Turkish delight vendors offered samples. Mounds of spices, teas, and candies lined the rows and created a feast for the eyes. Here I could imagine the bustling trade of the old Istanbul where spices were indeed at the heart of East-West exchange. Once upon a time, this largely tourist market was a powerhouse of commerce.
Of course, in all of these markets, keeping the aggressive vendors at bay is one of the major activities of the excursion. Whether walking through the Grand Bazaar or down the street below our hotel at dinner time, we are just wildebeest to their lions' hunt. One has to be as light-footed and quick as a gazelle to escape the jaws of "Why not?! You just come look!", "You already ate? That's okay, you just come have a drink. Sit!" and "I have a jacket in your size - here, try it on!" One has to be mindful of which path he or she walks down, lest one stir the wild and hungry leather salesman.
After a brief trip through the Spice Bazaar, we were ready for a change of scene and activity. There's only so much Bazaar one can handle in a day. For more than half a year, we've been waiting to see "Eat Pray Love" and found ourselves in places that either didn't have it yet or where we had no movie theater - until now.
Obviously, "Eat Pray Love" has certain similarities to our own journey.... India and Bali being major stops on our route. We may not have gone to Italy, but we ate plenty in Greece. Liz Gilbert's travel around the world involved exactly the same sequence of regions as our trip. Given that everyday, I write this blog - there are some fun parallels. Many times I have imitated the movie trailer and said to Emily, "First you will lose everything (us putting everything away in storage). Then you will get it all back (the stuff we buy) and then you will return to Bali and I will teach you everything I know! (which isn't very much)."
So, a tram and funicular ride took us to the fancy and very beautiful Beyoglu area where we found our movie theater. Istekal Cadessi is like the Third Street Promenade of Istanbul. Shopping and restaurants run for blocks along a pedestrian street that in its 19th Century heyday was considered to be like a little piece of Paris in Istanbul where the elite went to be seen. Today, it has a mixture of nice shops, several movie theaters, three Burger Kings, two Pizza Huts, one KFC and one Starbucks. Afternoons and evenings, crowds fill this area to capacity and we felt as if we had hit the most popular place in the city.
Once we started exploring the interesting, narrow, cobblestone side streets filled with restaurants, small shops and hotels overlooking old neighborhoods leading down to the Golden Horn which could be seen clearly below. The beautiful old - although often very aged - houses and apartment buildings are gorgeous and beckoned Emily to photograph them. The interesting textures and shapes of the old Beyoglu neighborhoods are a pool of fascination.
After the movie we made our way back to our area through the Autumn rain and got a quick dinner.
By the end of the day, we had seen old and older, European and Middle Eastern, crowded and more crowded, and chaotic and more chaotic. People were everywhere doing everything. There were some areas clearly more touristy than others and places that made more and less sense to us. But the essence of Istanbul still eluded me. I remain ever watching, ever mindful, ever seeking to make sense of this strange mix of peoples and history.
Comments