Expat in Istanbul

I guess I'm finally doing it, really living outside the states. I mean, throughout Europe I was just a tourist, passing through quickly; picture here and dinner there. Trying to get a taste for each city, each country in a matter of hours. But no where felt like home, felt real. I was taking pictures of postcards, not living the sights myself. I've been in Istanbul now for five days, the longest I've been in any one place since I left home. I've already fallen into a bit of a routine consisting of waking up earlier than I used to, eating a breakfast of fresh fruit and veggies, spending my day however I wish, often involving a cup of chai (like back home!) and a doner kebap (lamb skimmed off a spit and rolled in bread with peppers/tomatos and sometimes french fries) and falling asleep exhausted after wandering the city all day or working on my papers and Arabic. My sister used to say (perhaps she still does) that all she needs to be happy is a good book, a hot cup of coffee and a new pair of socks. I've got the book, and cay instead of coffee, negatory on the socks, but I did find a pair of amazing new pants.

Meanwhile, I'm surrounded by an evolving culture, a beautiful people caught between tradition and "modern life." I was somewhat sad to find that Istanbul was not as traditionally Muslim as even my 2 year old travel guide suggested. I haven't had issues being seated next to men in restaurants or public transportation. In fact the metro cars are akin to sardine cans packed to exploding capacity. And while I have gotten some attention for being American and/or a lone female, most of this consists of young men telling me I'm "pretty" as I pass by. There are a few women here and there in burqas (the textbook image of a Muslim woman covered in a shroud), and many wear head scarves, but the majority of Turkish women I've met and seen are modestly dressed in western style clothing. One of the more interesting sights I've been lucky enough to chance across, a hundred men kneeling to pray in a back street, facing Mecca, wearing jeans and suit jackets, their Nike shoes and cell phones waiting on the ground beside them. An American comparison just doesn't exist.

A high percentage of Turks speak at least basic English and almost every bookstore I've found has had at least a fair selection of English language books. However after searching about twenty new book stores and a collection of small used shops I've yet to find an English/Arabic dictionary, excepting two that weren't quite what I wanted. One was an English/Arabic/Turkish dictionary, which while intriguing and cheap was badly designed and lacked prounounciations. The other was exactly what I want in content, but was about four inches thick, hard bound, and weighed probably ten pounds. Not the best for backpacking.

The city itself is intriguing, modern and ancient combine so beautifully and often in an artistic sort of clash that I can't help but smile. Three hundred year old mosques form the backdrop to Burger King and cell phone shops. The covered network of shops called the grand bazaar, home to 6000 shops and hundreds of thousands of shoppers daiy, is only a block away from one of the main tram stops. Sitting in an metro coffee shop, the call to prayer can be heard through the window, a lamenting male voice chanting in Arabic. It's no wonder the people themselves often seem caught between their traditions and the modern world that is taking over by storm.

I'm posting a few more pictures of the city in my travel photos, then I'm heading back to Istiklal, the main shopping street in hopes of seeing another protest. The PKK issue has been a hot topic here lately. I chanced across a small demonstration near a monument in Istiklal last night, but didn't have my camera. Listening to the group of about thirty men and women chanting in Turkish, holding pictures of what I can only assume are the martyrs of their cause, I suddenly felt a chill on an otherwise warm night.