Me, myself and Istanbul

My love affair with Istanbul has started to fade away for the reasons I have hard time explaining. Istanbul looks worn out and aged a bit this time around.

Well maybe, this time I am staying on the Anatolian side of Istanbul which I am not that found of. Maybe, Istanbul needs a face lift or people are fed up with the chaos and they do not care any longer. But I do care how Istanbul looks and feels like.

So, my mission is today to convince myself that my feelings are temporary and that the Anatolian side of Istanbul can excite me as well. I decide to take a walk by the Marmara sea to take in the sights. In a way I want to find out whose fault are these feelings, mine or the Anatolian side of Istanbul. In the  meantime,  I remember the poem of Orhan Veli which starts with "İstanbul'u dinliyorum gözlerim kapalı" which means "Listening to Istanbul with my eyes closed". This poem has meant a lot to me over the years. I do listen to Istanbul with my eyes closed many times. Now I tell myself to forget which side I am on,  just listen to Istanbul and not necessarily with closed eyes.

Orhan Pamuk writes about the good old days of Istanbul which I love reading over and over. But today, I decide to think and write about the present.   

I remember briefly when I was a student at the University of Istanbul, eating a simit and having a cup of tea in Beyazıt Square on a windy day sitting by a courtyard of a mosque. Nothing in the world ever tasted as good. I plan on doing the same today.

Well, today's Istanbul is a different place; with its people, climate, buildings and fewer trees around.  I have hard time accepting it but, that is the truth.

I keep walking and finally make it to Bostancı which is a lovely town by the Marmara Sea. It has one of the busiest piers. I take a seat in a cafe where I can watch people. I get my cup of tea and a simit. So far it is good. It is time I tell myself to close my eyes and listen to Istanbul.

All I hear are the cell phone conversations around me. Everyone has somebody keeping company and a cell phone. I have neither. I feel kind of naked!

I don't think there are any manners in terms of using cell phones in public. Phone rings, immediately they reach to their pockets or handbags to answer it and drop off the group conversation they are just so feverishly involved.

Conversation starts with simple greetings and goes onto really private matters, lasting about five  minutes.  I can not help but hear the whole conversation. That tall guy to my left talks about a broken promise by his brother and he literally curses at his family. He calls some family member a pimp, another a whore.

Older lady with bleached blond hair who is peacefully having her tea and having a pleasant conversation with her friend turns into an angry person when her phone rings. The subject  is her mother-in-law who did not help her financially, even though she promised to do so if she inherited some money. Finally, a young girl talks about her boyfriend not being man enough. She says on many instances he did not stand up for her in some family gatherings and she does not say very nice things about him.

They pour their hearts out and I shamelessly listen to all. I find myself taking sides and even justifying the curse words I hear. I have this giddy feeling knowing their intimate problems.

Maybe he wants to share his anger towards his brother. Maybe she is right about the mother-in-law who was too stingy to help her out or maybe that boyfriend is not mature enough to have such a great girlfriend. 

Yes, I am listening Istanbul my eyes open and having such a great time in Bostancı Kafe with my friends. After all, I know a lot about them and I have also an opinion about each one of them. I think I love being on the Anatolian side and having so many intimate friends all around me. I feel at home and order another cup of tea :)

Last day in Istanbul.

My last day starts just like the fırst day of my stay in Istanbul minus Ayşegül. An elaborate breakfast prepared by Ahmet and Nevin. It has been snowing since yesterday, it is not a pretty view, mud mixed wıth snow. People are out and about, public transportation running smoothly, there are some delays on the highways but that is expected.

An impromptu decision brought me to Istanbul. My friends have been asking me when or  if I would ever come to Istanbul on the Facebook. I responded with same excuses. If I can only get over the flight anxiety etc. We have a sayıng that goes like "breakıng the leg of the devil" which I could not do last few years.

I used to be an impulsive young woman, nowadays I am more cautious. It is hard to believe but true. I do think before I make a decision. Coming to Istanbul was not one of those moments. My imagination was running wild. I pictured Istanbul rainy, noıiy, difficult and capricious. All of a sudden, I wanted to be an Istanbulian. I went online to THY page, bought my ticket and I broke the leg of the devil..

I had a remarkable time ın Istanbul. Friends, family and just being in Istanbul made me enjoy lıfe even more.

I will miss, impromptu gatherings with my friends. It takes a phone call to get 6 or 8 together. Next is having great time in a coffee shop somewhere in Istanbul. Nothing stops us when it comes to MAVRA atmak which means talking about nothing for several hours. I will miss my family members hugging, kissing me and believing that they are happy to see me! I will miss my brother and his wife Nevin a lot wıth their UFO ideas, his lectures, and his great sense of humor. Although we do not agree on a lot of things, I seemed to enjoy his discussions. I started to believe that America is beiınd in every evil ın the world wıth their consumerism and war industry.

I will miss Aygün and her sincere friendship.

Tomorrow mornıng I will say good bye to all. I already feel the heaviness in my heart. I am open to dynamics of the societies. However, I do not want Türkiye to change with times.  I want to keep our unique place in  history and geography

Potpouiri of my stay....

I have 3 more days left in Istanbul. I have done a lot while I was here. There were couple of things I made a point of doing. Seeing my aunts and uncle, spending time with my brother, visiting a Bikram Yoga studio that has recently opened in Istanbul. I did it all. As you may already know that I am a fan of Bikram yoga. I like the discipline, poses and the heat of the room. I also made some good friend there. Bikram yoga makes me challenge myself every day.

I am so happy that I got to spend this time here with my friends and family. I connect with them almost everyday through the usual ways a lot of us connect with each other now a days.

Istanbul is like a beautiful woman....

It is unpredictable, unexpected, moody and beautiful. Istanbul is a sexy city. I feel I am challenged by Istanbul. I must please Istanbul. I should touch Istanbul way lovers touch each other, gently, generously with no inhibitions. I should keep my eyes all over Istanbul, I should inhale Istanbul. I feel jealous if I am not out and about and adoring Istanbul. I should be the only lover she has. So, every day I walk the streets, I take in the sceenes, I smile at Istanbul hoping that she will see me.

Does Istanbul care how I feel about her? Probably not and that makes me work even harder to please Istanbul.

What is nostalgia...

I really do not have any yearning for the past. However, I lived a nostalgic weekend. It started with my high school classmates meeting in the cafeteria of our school. I was very touched when my very close friends showed up for the lunch. We were 13 years old young girls when we arrived in this building which was build for 6 daughters of an Ottoman Emperor. Our back yard was the Bosphourus, I mean that literally. Classrooms had huge marble carved fireplaces, high ceilings were adorned by gilded hand paintings of sceneries etc. It was a simple pleasure to go to school every day. We talked about our days and our teachers. Tulin was most vivid in her description of experiences we had with the teachers. She played the piano. Beyhan was always a lady and preferred to listen, then Rengin arrived with her usual hava. She was delightful as always and told us all about her boyfriends and how she mixed and match them. Finally got her love of her life to propose to her. Sibel made me remember the disco scene we frequented in Istanbul. I loved to dance.  Asuman and Zuhal talk about the year they had to repeat and how happy they were to be together that year. Four and a half hours of sheer fun we had. We had some lunch but do not remember what. Each one of us earned our place in the society as independent women with professions. We are mothers with successful, healthy, happy families. We are ATATURK'S DAUGHTERS.

I have big plans this Sunday. We are going to visit our aunt (paternal side) Dr. Huceste Kumcuoglu (Dinccag) who is 95 years old. Eldest member from my Dinccag side. She lives with her care giver near to her sons Ali and Tunc. She is a doctor of internal medicine, graduating in 1945. We were 8, including our uncle's son Mustafa, Ibrahim Dinccag with his fiance who is a great grand son of the grand uncle from Bafra. We all took turns interviewing my aunt,  trying to find out as much as possible about my family's background. My aunt was in good spirit, she told us about her years in medical school which corresponded to World War II. University of Istanbul was strengthened with the German professors who ran away from Nazi Germany. She says, they were great educators with great sense of humor. They used translators in the classrooms, eventually most of them spoke Turkish and became Turkish citizens. She has 3 classmates alive, they call each other everyday to talk about their blood pressure and sugar levels. I will not take your time with other details but one story I would like to share.

When one of her professor passed away, they found out that he wanted to be buried in a Muslim cemetery. Permission was denied by the government. Luckily she says, one of his student wrote to the ministry of health claiming that professor was a Muslim without really declaring it. His student claimed that professor was heard memorizing and repeating kelimei shaadet. After several more bureaucratic steps and correspondence professor was given permission to be buried in the cemetery of his choice.

I have one more week left in Istanbul.

I would like to define nostalgia as a general interest in the past in its personalities and events rather than lusting or yearning for the past.

Istanbul invites me to lunch and dinner every day and I can not say NO Thanks:)

A while ago, I decided that food was not going to be important part of my life. So, I stopped cooking. Tanju did not take it seriously at first; He thought, I bet, this phase will pass too, just like drinking wheat grass and eating tofu or doing yoga 3 hours a day. I have not cooked anything in the last 3 months. Those of you wondering what we eat, Tanju eats frozen food mostly from the brand called "Lean Cuisine". They are not bad at all. I eat whatever I find around some fruit, apple sauce or at  Tanju's recommendation I eat Lean Cuisine as well. Lean Cuisine is made by Nestlé which also makes Beneful that Rusty eats. So Tanju and Rusty are both being fed by Nestlé.

When I left Istanbul in 1976, eating out meant going to kebab houses or rarely going to a fish restaurant so my parents could drink rakı and socialize with their friends. Those were not that much fun for me and my brother. We would fall a sleep on our chairs. There were also restaurants for lunch only, frequented by the area merchants and businessmen.  I remember going to one of those in Beyoğlu with my father. Chef was a big guy hold a large spoon (I had never seen such large spoon before) standing behind the casserole trays he cooked that morning. It was noisy and crowded. There were only men dressed in ties and suits. Chef handled the large pieces of lamb with his hand to split into exact portions for the patrons. It is a view that I will never forget. I am not sure I ate anything, I was very intimidated.

Well, in Istanbul I am making up for the last 3 months and also for my childhood. I am experiencing a culinary feast in Istanbul. You all know by now that I spend most of my time meeting friends and having many cups of tea and coffee with delicious pastries. Bakeries are very good and readily available almost every corner on every street. Even the chains like Coffee House does a great job. One day Ayşegül and I had pastry filled with leeks and goat cheese and seared on a pan. It was yummy. Later that week I had that infamous expensive lunch in Nişantaşı. My friends and I justified the price by saying "it tasted very good, you could actually taste each piece of fish":)
When I went to Kadıköy to visit Sevil and Şükran, I had home cooked meal by Sevil, with red lentil soup hot red pepper and butter sauce on top followed by stuffed mushrooms and chicken börek finally so sweet pumpkin desert topped with crushed walnuts. The other night, I was invited to dinner by my friend Zuhal. She is a very gracious host. The dinner was home cooking at its best. I have not had just great rice pilav with herbs for a long time. Ellerinize sağlık arkadaşlarım!

The latest trend in Istanbul is esnaf(merchant) restaurants. Those are where area merchant went to eat lunch in olden days. One can find it anywhere these days, does not have to be business area. They offer traditional dishes with a twist like pesto sauce etc. It is hard to mess up home cooking. One needs good ingredients to get the results.

One really stood out was called Subaşı in Grand Bazaar. This one is an authentic merchant restaurant the way my father visited. There is no menu, you can look and point out the dish you would like to have. I had Sebze Türlü (slow stewed mixed vegetables with rice and Manda yogurt. The other one I really enjoyed called Kantin in Nisantaşı. It is in an apartment building, menu is written on a black board. It is simple yet each dish sounds so very appetizing.   Afiyet olsun Istanbul.

Impressions I would like to share...

Thanks to Aygün, I get to see something new almost everyday. My days already filled with going around the city, having tea with friends and family members. Aygün makes each day a little bit more special. She has a great way of making situations more tolerable with a Nasreddin Hodja story or a proverb that fits perfectly. She was telling me about a conversation with her daughter the other day. It goes like this..

Idil (daughter)   So what are the plans today with lale?
Aygun                Lale would like to shop for a leather dress, I will take her to Zeytinburnu
                          (Leather fashion manufacturing area)
Idil                    Ohh, sounds nice. Get me a dress too.

Aygun continues telling me a Hodja story.:

One day, Hodja says to town people that he is going to market. He blows his whistle and yells  if anyone would like to place an order to let him know. People place their orders with him according to their needs from the market. And kids of the village come and ask him to buy whistles for them. One young boy comes by as well and says here is 50 kuruş(cents) and please get me a whistle. Next day hodja comes back from the market and blows his whistle to let the village that he is back. The kids come to ask for their whistles. He takes out a whistle from his pocket and hands it out to the kid who paid for the order and says "you get to blow the whistle if you paid for it"  That's where "Parayı veren düdüğü çalar." in Turkish comes from. (One who pays the piper calls the tune) Apparently, that was the end of that conversation.
 
The other day I noticed that we Turks can express ourselves in such detail that it becomes poetic. Instead of saying that idea is old, they describe it with the change of seasons.  I also noticed that the word "şey" which is literally means "thing" is capable of describing a lot. One can actually make a whole sentence around the word "şey." Get me the şey from the şey and put it in the şey.. In a magical way, I know what to pick and where to put "it".

I love to listen to the Classical Turkish Music. I was lucky enough to be invited to a private concert by the Bosphorous University Alumni Chorous the other night. Dr. Alâeddin Yavaşca, a very famous composer and lyricist was present. Thanks Belgin! It was swell.

All the songs are based on being in love. Love is usually described with an organ of the body, mostly eyes, or a season, mostly spring time, one cries to the point blood replaces their tears for the love of their lives.

One of the song talks about falling in love with a 13 years old girl.


It goes like this:*


she wears a scarf on her beautiful head
her side locks reach down to her eyebrows that look like the new moon
she is just 13, 14 years old
charming, amorus, beautiful village girl


In the morning when a nightingale sings in the garden
she picks roses in bunches
wearing a fragrant hyacinth on her lapel
village girl whose eyes are darkened wıth kohl


come, beautiful village girl, let me take you and elope
let me sprinkle gold on your fancy bridal veil
let me escape these lands with you 
charming, amorous, beautiful village girl


Obviously, this song is about lusting after a young girl, if you know what I mean. However, I also know that it is a very old song and that time girls married by 16 years old.

I had the most fun the other night watching a tv show called "You got Talent". It would be more apropriate to call it "People with no Talent". I have never seen so many untalented people putting them through horrible situations to compete in front of millions. There was a a man who is in his late 60's riding a bike on stage. He rides his bike in circles as the stage permits first few minutes. Then he stands on one pedal and balances himself for a few seconds. Then he starts pedaling his bike backward and runs into the stage lighting and mirrors that were strategically placed. Background music is Black sea folk music. With the stage accident, they all stop all of a sudden. The whole situation is ridiculous. He is eliminated by three judges who are not very articulate either. Later on a young guy comes on stage starts dancing to hip hop music. Music is good and his moves are funny. Judges are happy to see him. One asks his age. He is 15 years old. They ask him about his school and his grades. He says he is failing all his classes, he got low grades in math and geometry he adds that it is his destiny. He hopes that his teacher will hear him give him passing grades after this show. The audience starts applauding him. Camera turns to audience and young girls are waving at him and trying to get his attention. Jury members approve.  I do not know who to be angry at.  My country is full of ironies. I think that is the word best describes Turkiye.


* Original Turkish lyrics


Yemeni bağlamış telli başına
Zülüfleri düşmüş hilal kaşına
Yeni girmiş onüç ondört yaşına
Edalı işveli köylü güzeli


Sabah olmuş öter bahçede bülbül
Durmayıp devşirir demet demet gül
Takınmış göğsüne kokulu sünbül
Gözleri sürmeli köylü güzeli


Gel seni köylü kız alıp kaçayım
Telli duvağına altın saçayım
Seni bu diyardan alıp kaçayım
Edalı işveli köylü güzeli