Istanbul

Of course the first few bars of Betthoven's Fur-Elise are playing somewhere out the window and I don't know where it's coming from but I do know it will go off again in a few minutes. Two nights ago, sometime near the morning I starting dreaming in bars of music only to finally wake up thinking it was an alarm and someone kept hitting snooze but then...everyone was gone. This morning I woke up to a scratchy dog with both fleas and eczema barking through the door two feet from my head on a continuous monologue without stopping for air. And I think, "oh dear...I suppose I'm in Istanbul."

Yesterday I was standing with tired feet in the tomb of Suleyman the Magnificent and was about to go when two English speakers walked in with a private guide and she said through thick Turkish filters that "Before electricity, the room was lit only by tiny fractured slits so the ceiling was always looking the stars. And the sparkles that glimmer are not diamonds, but very small windows that let in small enough beams to shine like jewels.

Later, resting up on a balcony in the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Arts, a chilly Bosphorus breeze swept in, sucking the hot air out of my clothes, and the call to prayer rose up from the Blue Mosque, layered in front of me with all of its domes, and beside it, the Hagia Sophia, but instead of overlapping, they fell into dialogue, took turns, rising like a crescendo, until the callers' voices cracked and the day lay silent, hot, broken.

Behind me in the museum ruby-eyed snakes and eagles tore at each others throats.

But as I have a moment on this Internet connection, let me say a little about my hostess, Katie, and my first glimpses of the Turks . She taught me a phrase to use while toasting among friends: En ko(e)tu(e) go(e)rdu(e)muz bo(e)yle olsun. (paranthetical e's = umlouts) It means - Let this day be our worst! I thought that was beautiful.

She's from Portland, who was brought here by an eccentric tyrant to watch over his kids and teach them English, what quickly devolved to threats of the Turkish mafia with a cold eye over passport control, she escape through airline cunnery and has been underground teaching preschoolers English and taking visa excursions every three months with extravagent stories and the occassional accidental mention of Atatu(e)rk.

The hero, seculizer, reformer, man on all the money - portrait gleaming on posters stickers, through windows from between frames, and generally ghosting here and there throughout all Constantinople. She says everyone stiffens up when you say his name. Even the broadest friends who have lived elsewhere for years and can understand various foreign perspectives say in explanation "just don't bring him up." Her roommate, Zayneb talked willingly about the Kurdish question and the EU and why something like only 20% of women seem to wear the hijab (when political controversy would inflate that number beyond recognition) and bars and alcohol are omnipresent though 99% of the population is Muslim. Secularization, the countryfolks who killed a fellow for eating in the daytime during Ramadan, the threat of the Iranization of secular Turkey, etcetera etcetera...but no, we can't discuss Atatu(e)rk.

She told me how the Kurds are overwhelmingly the members of the Tukish population who are offered visas by the other European countries (and I do feel very strongly that I am in Europe right now - and though I am geographically on the European side, the general method of life feels more European than not) they who, in her words, tend to be statistically less educated and lets just say "rowdier" are the ones who represent Turkey all over Europe and all the race issues and sectarian violence that Europe has dealt with as a result, she claims is because the system only allows the ruffians to emigrate.

My own impression is that if Istanbul is an indicator of all of Turkey (which it probably is not but for now it feels like it) then EU ascention is none too far away. Nice cars on the roads, a beachside that reminds me of Santa Monica, fastfood restaurants that tend to surpass New York in fast food prices, and entrance fees to the historical treasures that are downright offensive. I was kidding myself thinking I could live off 5$ a day in a city like this where a piece of toast is nearly 2$ and a museum I was on the fence about entering was almost 5. Every now and then I pass a kebab stand that is very reasonable for a whole lunch but then I remember (oh yeah) I'm a vegetarian. Damn my politics and bleeding heart morality. As the bazaars have shown, it's a barracuda eat pirana world out there and you have to have sharp teeth in order to survive. Hopefully, I'm kidding.

Well, this is long enough. I'll check out now for the moment, and elaborate as soon as possible. Two last quick notes - Katie says she could never date a Turkish boy, because the Mediterranean strain of chauvenism (accepted polygamy), patriarchal domination, and a devaluing of the role of the female member of the couple seems to strong to her (even among those who have studied abroad) - which is something I wont necessarily subscribe to (my friend Eren is anything but a catcalling chauvenist) but the sheer consistency of male behavior has, after 9 month, undeniably turned her off (though the Tarot cards have her falling in love with Turk in July)...and second, Istanbul is without a doubt one of the greatest cities for skyline sunsets I have ever seen. The hazy tired yellows and oranges hanging over minarets and mosques, hillsides crammed with crooked houses, and bridges and waters as far as the eye can see is truly spectacular. Now I'm off for day 2 out wandering the streets and drinking in the architecture.

All the best,
tcm