Istanbul

I'm off to Istanbul tomorrow. My luggage is packed. Passport and ticket are in place. I lost my voice from chatting with my friends on the phone, wishing everyone a happy new year :-) I am already mentally there, who am I kidding? I closed the chapter of 2005 New York in my mind. I'm already in my parents' living room. I have so many people to see, not sure how it will all fit in.

Going to Istanbul is like diving into a dream. Swimming underwater, when noone else can disturb the moment. No phone calls, no access to email. Just floating from one familiar home to another, following the threads of well-worn streets.

I am sure things will have changed. My dad will have more gray hair, my mom will be taking more vitamins, my brother will be all decked up in his business suits--no longer a student. I'll walk by new storefronts, new restaurants, look for ways to go over highways that cross my shortcuts from ten, fifteen years ago. Who cares? I shall blend in within a day or so. 'Cause I am from there. I can rewrite my memories of Istanbul and reconstruct an idyllic city in my mind, the way I like, when I get back to New York.

American Dreams

I want to introduce you to someone: Viktor, my dry cleaner. There are four dry cleaners within the vicinity of two blocks from my house. But I insist on going to Viktor's shop. He always remembers my complicated first and last name. I can just drop my pile on his counter and run off to catch the train. He'll put everything order and print my ticket. I can pick up my clothes the next day, just fine.

The other night, I was coming home from a dance class and saw that Viktor's lights were on. Surprised to see him working at 9PM, I knocked on the door and asked if I could pick up my weekly load. He got up from his computer, where he had been reviewing his business accounts, and opened the door for me. We got to chit chat about the holidays and gift shopping as he ran my AmEx through his machine. He said, "I got a doll for my granddaughter." My jaw dropped. "How old are you?" I asked. He said he was 47. He had his daughter young and his daughter had her daughter young. He's never seen the little one, but talks to her on the phone and she asks her almost imaginary grandpa, that voice over the phone, for toys she sees on satellite TV. Things they don't have in Ukraine, but things her grandpa can somehow find and send.

I know that Viktor has been waiting to go home for a while...His PhD didn't get him much in Moscow, so he left for the US. He says his life is better thanks to his shop, but he has not reached his dream yet. He designs cars as a hobby, but his real goal is to have his own clothing line. He points to the neon sign on his window. A signature like logo saying "Viktor."

"That's what I want to see on labels, on someone's store," he explains to me. He cannot find time to draw much because his work takes up most of his energy. But he did saw his own pants from scratch and he makes comfortable half-sleeve shirts for some customers on a request basis. Other times, he just catches their bundles of clothes--wishing one day they wear Viktor's.

Connecting to Turkey - via the blogosphere

Gotta love the blogosphere. Everything seems to be connected. Earlier today, I was trying to cook "barbunya" which is a classic Turkish/Greek dish. (Red beans cooked with tomato sauce, carrots, potatoes, and onions -- with olive oil of course.) I had a hard time getting the beans to be soft, so I searched online for a recipe. I found this wonderful blog called Ev Cini, the "house genie. "

Later, when I went to the blogger homepage getting ready to jot down my thoughts of the day. I caught a blog name that I recognized as Turkish on the "recently updated" list. I clicked on it and found a blog by Ipek Kuscu - a Turkish handbag designer, based in Istanbul. Her beautiful work can be purchased at Evihan, a small shop in Cukurcuma Istanbul, displaying all sorts of glass, ceramic, silver handcraft jewelry.

And guess what, Ipek links to Ev Cini as well. Sweet :-)

Countdown...Going home for the holidays :-)

I packed a few things today. First, I had piled everything I needed to take home in one corner of my bedroom. I know it's bad Feng Shui to block doorways with irratic stuff, but what can I do? I do not have that much closet space... So, today I started stuffing my suitcases. My mom's pills, my girlfriend's housewarming gift, a matching set of bib and t-shirt for my other friend's new born. Finally, my eye doctor's notes from my previous exam and my most precious bottles of shampoo and hair conditioner. Yes, there are a wide variety of haircare products available in Istanbul. But, moi, I have tons of hair that need special treatment. (In fact, I only go to DevaChan and use their products to manage my curls.)

My boyfriend is laughing at all this planning and hopping and skipping around bags of goodies lined up to fly over to my other home. Well, I am not exactly a last minute person. I gotta plan. Plus, these trips are a big deal for me. I get to see my parents and my brother twice a year since I live abroad. And grandfathers, worse, once a year. Phone, email, IM...sure, these help but it's not the same as living in the same time zone, looking onto the same streets, talking about the same local incidents. You cannot really catch up, really, unless you are face to face. You need to touch and hug and kiss. And hug a bit more, in fact hold on just a tad bit to feel the other person's warmth and closeness. You need time to etch your mommy's embrace, your dad's cologne and your grandpa's cigar smelling living room (with clean ashtrays nonetheless!) You need time to get to those punch lines when joking around with your brother. You need to eat mommy's food not just once, but for breakfast, lunch and dinner, several times over to give your palate a permanent sense of perfection.

I miss all this when I am away. It's like stepping back a few yards to gain better perspective, to see all details in their natural context. Except, I am more than a few yards away. And from where I stand, I can only see outlines, not many details. I need to get a bit closer to remember the smells, the colors, the sounds. And then return to New York, my New Home, to replicate the picture.

New York Languages

I was at the dentist when my childhood friend called me on the phone. She is visiting from Istanbul and she was wondering when I could meet up with her. As I told her she needed to wait another 15 minutes or so, the Russian hygenicist and the Italian dentist looked on. I hung up and turned back to my seat. We all went back to our discussion about my Xrays, in English. Total New York experience!