On The Edge of Bosphorous
I crossed the street in front of my grandfather's apartment building and hopped on the car's front street. We zoomed down the hill, rushing to the water. Unbelievable for Istanbul, there was no traffic. Soon we were in "Bebek" - the most curvacious, baby-like neighbourhood by the strait separating Europe from Asia.
While looking for a spot to park the car, I reversed my friend's interrogations about my life in the States and asked how she was doing. She said she could not find many people that suited her mindset -- forget about men, she added. I told her to sign up online and consider meeting expats or people who live abroad. She replied, saying she didn't want to leave far from her family again and she could not ask anyone to uproot themselves for her. I asked, "Why not?"
"Noone would come," she answered. "It's really bad here. The politics, the economy, social conflicts." Her words were in stark contrast to another friend with whom I had met the day before. He seemed quite content - recently promoted, eager to get his share of the growing finance sector, tracking clients even while having lunch. Depends on your point of view and social background, I guess.
"Right, I can imagine," I said. "You just became aware of this?" I could not believe that it was taking her so long to see the rise of fundamentalism, the emergence of a new middle class largely consisting of pious entrepreneurs, liquidating small businesses, folks retiring at 50 some, young adults working for peanuts...
As we hashed out current events, the water cut us off. We stopped by the curb to look at the amazing view - the boats, irregularly spread houses, the lights, green-black moss and the seagulls. We left the car keys with a valet and followed a narrow trail to a level below the street. After a small left turn, we came upon "Ashk Cafe," meaning love cafe. We passed through the smokers, hubbled around heat lamps and plunked on cushy divans by clean, white-framed windows.
Dusk settled slowly. Boats were passing by, lights coming on in fives and tens. The waiter brought our teas. We chatted and looked onto the Bosphorous from the last corner of Istanbul left to us.
While looking for a spot to park the car, I reversed my friend's interrogations about my life in the States and asked how she was doing. She said she could not find many people that suited her mindset -- forget about men, she added. I told her to sign up online and consider meeting expats or people who live abroad. She replied, saying she didn't want to leave far from her family again and she could not ask anyone to uproot themselves for her. I asked, "Why not?"
"Noone would come," she answered. "It's really bad here. The politics, the economy, social conflicts." Her words were in stark contrast to another friend with whom I had met the day before. He seemed quite content - recently promoted, eager to get his share of the growing finance sector, tracking clients even while having lunch. Depends on your point of view and social background, I guess.
"Right, I can imagine," I said. "You just became aware of this?" I could not believe that it was taking her so long to see the rise of fundamentalism, the emergence of a new middle class largely consisting of pious entrepreneurs, liquidating small businesses, folks retiring at 50 some, young adults working for peanuts...
As we hashed out current events, the water cut us off. We stopped by the curb to look at the amazing view - the boats, irregularly spread houses, the lights, green-black moss and the seagulls. We left the car keys with a valet and followed a narrow trail to a level below the street. After a small left turn, we came upon "Ashk Cafe," meaning love cafe. We passed through the smokers, hubbled around heat lamps and plunked on cushy divans by clean, white-framed windows.
Dusk settled slowly. Boats were passing by, lights coming on in fives and tens. The waiter brought our teas. We chatted and looked onto the Bosphorous from the last corner of Istanbul left to us.
posted by Mimi Media @ 11:10 PM
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