Turkey
By Kristin Trapp
I
walked through Istanbul’s
streets for five consecutive days and found myself to be slightly bored
with my
surroundings. The significant signs of
being a transnational city were portrayed with every Mc Donald’s and
Starbucks
that I came across. The city was cold
and damp and the smell of fish penetrated the air.
I knew now that the days of street venders
harassing me was long over. This city
was far too advanced to have its streets cluttered with impoverished
people
shouting their best prices for small trinkets.
My
days in Istanbul
all seemed to run together with no great distinction.
The only variation I found was in which parts
of the city I would be walking around that day, would I be on the
European side
of the city or the Asian? That was the
extent of my difficult questioning. Either
way I felt that I would be walking down streets
that were paved,
with side walks and fancy cars, these things that have all become so
foreign to
me over the past few months.
The
transnational traits of the European side were so easily spotted. The tall skyscrapers with advertisements and
logos of the latest and greatest products lined every street. Spotting the vernacular took a little more
patience,
but always proved to be worth the effort. One
evening I and a few friends adventured over to the
Asian side of Istanbul,
with no
expectations and a blank agenda. We paid
the fare for the ferry with pocket change and found seats on the top
deck. The ride was short, but just long
enough for
us to lose any sense of familiarity in our surroundings.
It was dark out
and the streets were not very well lit. The
five of us were hungry so we decided to walk the streets and find
dinner. The Asian side was much more
familiar to all
of us, there were no signs of big skyscrapers, trendy chain restaurants
or any
transnational businesses for that matter; this part of the city had
much more
in common with the other countries that we had just previously visited. The streets were lined with town houses and
small businesses that looked as though they had been there for years. Nothing here had the feeling of a big
international city. This is partially
explained in Caglar Keyder’s article "The Housing Market from
Informal to
Global." The article discusses the
different forms of housing in Istanbul,
mainly focusing on the legal and the illegal housing that so many of
its
residents occupy. A large percentage of Istanbul’s
residents
occupy housing that was considered to be in the wrong zoning and after
election
of a new mayor is now being re-zoned and considered “illegal.” This presents a large problem for many of the
residents because a society that is already short on housing is now
short a
lot of
housing.
Eventually we
found the main street, which was all lit up and people were crowding
the
street. Thinking that a festival of some
kind was in action we decided to take a closer look.
There was no festival, just the locals doing
their form of “grocery shopping.” The
vendors in the streets were selling produce and meats the same way the
vendors
in the Vietnam
sold souvenirs. There were hundreds of
them, each selling something a little different then the next. The whole spectacle was amazing, how one
little ferry ride could transport me so far away. I
was back in a familiar territory, but knew
that it wouldn’t last long since the last ferry back home was leaving
soon and
we all knew it was time to go.
Istanbul
was not my
favorite port, but it did prove to be much more interesting than I gave
it
credit for. Reliving some of my memories
from the other countries on the Asian side of Istanbul was amazing, if only for a
little
while. The differences that I found
inside one city truly were polar opposites. I
may never return to Istanbul,
but I am glad of the time that I spent there.
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