Istanbul
There’s an Iranian saying about the spirit of a city: “the soil reaches up and grabs you.” I think it’s safe to say that the spirit of Istanbul grabbed me. A potpourri of chaos and nurture, jellyfish and colored glass, diesel fumes and sweet red tea, it’s a city with a soul that fosters a life all its own. Bustling with every form of transportation imaginable, it is somehow always in motion, and you can get anything at anytime of the day. Depending on the season, you can smell roasting chestnuts or corn, being sold in little green and red carts on every corner. Simit, a soft pretzel-like bread covered in sesame seeds, is sold in local neighborhoods by a man simply shouting,”simmmmittttttt!” as he walks down the street carrying his load on his head. The rich, rounded language is anything but offensive- I found it welcoming and comforting, with still the rhythmic melody like the ocean tide that penetrates every aspect of flow here.
All throughout the day you can find people drinking çay together at cafes, grandpas playing dominoes or bat-gammon in the streets, two men happily sharing a motorbike together through winding traffic, one-way streets being more of a suggestion than a rule. After vivid red sunsets, people crowded by the seaside, playing something a simple guitar late into the muggy nights. Together is the word for Istanbul. There is an undeniable togetherness here that feels like home to a lost soul like me. A mix of national pride and culturally endowed hospitality, these are the warmest, kindest people I’ve ever met. They ooze with humanity and humility. No one hesitates to lend a hand, to pick up a dropped water jug, pay a lost tourist’s ferry ride, or direct you to wherever you are tying to get. Pay it forward is the unspoken anthem. Everyone is your neighbor, and I never felt so safe in a place.
They treated me, and everyone, like family. The man down the street at the hostel in which I always sat out front, would leave me a handful of candy. A woman sitting next to me on the ferry smiled and offered me some of her roasted chestnuts like I was her sister. The man who sold me contact lenses offered me tea while I waited, and patiently used google translate to strike up a conversation, knowing no English himself. I overheard a German man say he forgot his laptop at the local cafe two days ago, only to return a few minutes later saying it was right where he left it.
The cats deserve a segment all their own. I’ve never seen a city appreciate animals so much. Cats can be found everywhere. In jewelry stores, lying across the gold necklaces. In old planters, curled up in a ball you didn’t notice until halfway through your omelet. In the metro station, next to the escalators they probably think were made for them. In cafes, on the seat that you thought was yours. They are even in hospitals, happy to keep you company as you question your own mortality. They are fed and cared for by everyone collectively. You will see piles of food spread out for them on the streets, men stopping their morning commute to pet one, women stoking them on their laps during lunch. My neighbor even started leaving tasty treats on my doorknob ever since she heard meowing from downstairs. It’s often joked that they are treated better than people, but I’d say it’s well-deserved. They add an element of laziness, surprise and comic-relief to what is otherwise a truly hardworking city.
I joke perhaps for me as much as you. Because it is bittersweet to say goodbye to this beautiful place that so kindly hosted me for two years. While I will surely be back to visit, there is simply something special about being a local, part of the whole. Where my favorite family-run coffee shop knows my order and would spray down my feet when they washed the sidewalks. Where the local bakery clerk would smile at me because she appreciated my sorry but earnest attempt to speak to her in Turkish. Where my elderly neighbors surely questioned my fashion choices but still gave me the warmest welcome every time I saw them.
I think that is the charm of Istanbul. To feel welcomed. To feel included. To feel a part of. To feel loved. I will be forever grateful to the city and the people who taught me what love is.
