Fear and Loathing in Istanbul: Assignment 3

Initial response a pone arrival: did my luggage make it? Thank god it did. Delirious and ecstatic I turned to my safely arrived suitcase into a bumper car. Sorry Cassie, I’ll beat your suitcase every time. The temperature feels the same but the air feels heavy. It adds another layer to my already dirty skin and sits on top of my eye lids. I wait as patiently as possible for our already-known-un-air conditioned room. I put the stiff, under 100 count linen sheet on top of my clammy body and end my day as soon as my eyes shut. Istanbul, I cannot wait to experience you.

The sky is clearer here. The air is more refreshing, as long as you don’t have a smoker by you. The grass is as green as Seattle and the cats are as common as an animal shelter. The city puts me at ease. I hold onto the yellow bars in the subway and I’m immediately comforted with the similarity to Berlin, this time I have a cool breeze on the top of my head and a tall, dark and handsome man with blue eyes right in front of me. Istanbul, I think I’m going to like you. My stomach leads me to a bright, yellow, familiar figure and my growling stomach is forcing me to buy one.

2 lira? No problem.

Corn on the cob, a little peace of home. My first bite tells me differently. Crunchy at first but a little soggy. Drenched in butter, just the way I like it. I eat what I can with the greasy butter drippy down my wrist on top of the paper they wrapped around the bottom. I feel obligated to give it up. Here Joe, you give it a try. I move on, quickly, because lucky me, I just found a cat. White and fluffy like the ones at home, but this one is missing half an ear. Something tells me to pet this cat as much as I want to. John just pet the cat. Note to self: don’t touch John for the rest of the trip.

I sit to listen to Orhan’s words of wisdom but who am I kidding? All day I’ve been hearing “blah blah Ottoman Empire blah blah palace”. Is it because it’s uninteresting? No. It’s because I cannot stop looking at the stray cats and people watching? Yes, sorry Orhan. We sit by a tree, looking at something that was part of the Roman Empire and naturally I choose to sit by the passed out man on the bench. Lauren, you’re in Istanbul, being taught fascinating things of history right where you’re sitting and you’re trying to get as close to this man’s hand as possible? Yes. What’s wrong with me?

This city has confused me. Geographically, economically, socially, any which way has not made sense in my mind. I approach a dog that is the color of cement and bruises that appears to be dead. Is no one going to clean up this dead dog? The dog is not dead. I wish I didn’t like animals. We walk down a hill. No, a hill is a thing we see in Seattle often. This isn’t a hill. This is a slope, a valley, a mountain I’m descending from. Joe gets the cab and I’m one of three in the back to jump in. Overwhelmed by the hill I ran down, not on purpose but because I couldn’t control my speed, all I see is yellow. Luckily I can understand “Taksi”. Heart racing, sweat running down my cheek, all I can do is laugh. Does our driver know he just cut three people off? Is this the speed limit? He almost hit that person. I try to ignore my anxiety with riding in cars because right now I’m in hell.

Getting out of the Taksi backseat I couldn’t help but sigh and shake my head to myself. We made it, I knew we were going to make it, everyone knew we would make it all in one piece. A lanky man stood outside an entrance as if he was waiting there for us. Recognizing that we were American, he begins speaking English to us pointing out that this is an entrance to the Grand Bizarre. My nerves finally calmed by the kind stranger, we continue to make small talk and explain that we’re waiting for others. He let us know that there are many entrances so it is unlikely that they’ll come through the same one. Trying to decide if we should just go in without them, I feel the presence of the stranger right behind me, hovering over us like he’s now part of our group also. We say thanks and walk in but he quickly walks with us and asks if we need any more help and he offered to take us around. We kindly decline his offer and the thoughtful stranger returns to his spot and waits for the next group of tourists to unload.

It was a strange feeling walking on the dimmed, mossy sidewalk thinking about all the encounters I have had thus far. It was a feeling of claustrophobia from being approach by strangers over and over again while being surrounded by more strangers. They came across like they had something for me and they knew it would help but unfortunately few were genuine. Anyone that could speak any English were capable of approaching me as if they recognize me, like I come by their spot every week. I was uneasy because I didn’t know who I could trust around me. Who were the people that actually cared about my well-being? Who were the people that actually enjoyed talking with me? I wish I was able to be less judgmental of those around me but the reality is, is I was never able to trust the people in Istanbul for a fear of being taken advantage of.