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in btwn east and west

Simit. The squawks of gulls, seaside. Minarets and mosques. The alternative street style-icons that climb the weaving uphill streets. Late night antiques and resident felines in shopping trolleys full of books. Clamouring platters of empty çay cups and pudding carts blocking my way home. The cats in the windows, at the CD stall of the market, in place of books on the shelves of libraries and in the chairs behind counters of corner stores as if they were ‘playing shop’.


The yearning to climb to a rooftop to peep anything close to a birds eye view as the call to prayer signals the sun’s pop of beauty before it’s evening rest. The vests and hats of the well-dressed, elderly gentlemen. Pistachio-dotted pastries in street windows, wanting. Floral silk scarves tied under elderly female chins holding their bags of vegetables. Perhaps on their way home to make a batch of sarma or bulgar pilav.


The reminders of between-ness in the waves of the Bosphorus. The hijab-clad woman and the transgender sex worker that pass by each other of an evening. The words of worship from one mouth to the words of curse in the next. The unmistakable bruising and taped noses in airport queues. Chatter of ancient empires mingling with hair transplant stories and the rave one went to last night with the friend of a friend who’s Palestinian and about to be snuck across the border into Germany. High end shopping and squat toilets. Sufi dancers and Turkish rap.



Through these travels, I almost altogether rejected cities - mainly European ones - as from my nomadic, frugal and money-saving lens, they were places that symbolised materialism, sucking me into the kind of travel and life that I was attempting to escape. The experience that I was seeking one of connection, culture and authenticity and this was something that - for me as a passer-through -  big cities couldn’t easily provide as everyone was on a mission to somewhere or another with no time to stop for conversation or to see where the flow of life could take them if they let it.


Yet, Istanbul was different. Or perhaps I was. Arriving after a grounding experience out in nature with humans on the same wavelength as me and with enough time to see the sights and taste the delights but also to wander without guilt of making the most of my time here gave me a comforting feeling in the city. With time to feel like a local and to reach a point where I began to show other travellers places that I’d found and that I’d fallen in love with, things became familiar. I left and returned to Istanbul about 3 times whilst in Turkey and so I experienced that ‘homecoming’ feeling that is not often felt when bouncing from one new place to the next. I stayed in different corners of the city and walked almost everywhere. I made companions in jewellery shop owners and expats and hostel workers. Uni-goers and returning travellers.


This city between worlds, wedged amongst ancient east and west, its variety of people and this fold in time showed me how a megacity can feel like home - at least for a while.


Waves of self were outgrown in this place. Phone calls from faraway held me through the place and a multitude of playmates came and went. This poem by Rumi that I found whilst living there resonates with this coming and going - of self, of moods and of moments. A small copy of his best works was always tucked into one of our tote bags, an anthology of love accompanying us on this journey through life.


The Guest House


This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.


A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.


Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.


The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.


Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.


~ Jalaluddin Rumi






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