A scientific fact is an observation that has been confirmed repeatedly and is accepted as true. And as far as any scientific fact goes, Istanbul is the “Awesomest” city in the world.
Now, I’m not the first nor the last to be shanghaied by this magnificent, unruly, and utterly breath-taking stretch of land and sea. I mean come on; we’re talking best-selling books, poetry, art, Netflix even. It’s no surprise then that attempting to write — something people want to actually read — about my life in Istanbul, a city I efficaciously — and officially please — call home is as byzantine as it gets. Mind you, I’ve come to consider Istanbul my “abode” ever since our first — 5 day — encounter, which I know is kinda pitiful.
A few equally short drop-bys later and in my ever-expanding imaginative brain, I was a Turkish citizen, albeit with Turkish language amnesia. Regretfully, I’m still dillydallying in that same “Turksheh Yok”[1] limbo. You tell me how am I supposed to climb the Mount Everest of languages when I haven’t made any real Turkish friends, one reason — besides language … Duh!– I keep bumping into Americans, how about that, and they seem to be the only ones interested in chatting up. Anyhow, I am taking Turkish language lessons now, and may I say I am doing brilliant, and my very young tutor — professionals don’t come cheap y’all — is very proud of me and keeps saying “that’s my pupil”, and it makes no difference that I may well be the age of his Anne[2]. He also promises that I will start babbling like a Turk in 4 months. AND … this is where things get uber interesting, he adds that I will speak Turkish better than Turks, what is that supposed to mean I will leave for the universe to decipher.
So, why bother to read anything I have to say about Istanbul?
Ok, I am taking the “truth” rather than the “dare” route. I have nothing special to add to the already useful info about Istanbul on the WWW, except that I am Vegan (in Turkey), a hardcore weightlifter, a sort of nerdy geek, both a mega foodie AND an OCD health freak (it’s complicated), I am always up hours before dawn, add many extra espresso shots to my “double” espresso, eat tahini from the jar- with a spoon, people who know me describe me as “ a self-motivated maniac”, I hate cigarette smoking with a vengeance yet chose to live in a city where people’s favorite hobby/ past time/ life goal/ worldly passion seem to be, yep cigarette smoking. But mostly I am hopelessly and pathetically in love with this splendid city.
Istanbul, why do I love you oh so?
Your köpek(s)[3] and Kedi(s)[4], probably more than your humans, but your humans too. The fiery, thick-lashed studmuffins[5], the dazzling divas, and the cuddly büyükanne(s) and dede(s)[6]. Your resplendent sunsets, spine-tingling minarets, and heart-melting Boğazı[7] — the closest I’ve ever got to heaven. Your cobbled streets, dirty alleys, soot, and smoke. Your “exoticness”, your art, and the sound of your music. Your ravishing beauty, your adorning, your scents, and your smell. Istanbul, there is no city in the world like you; I love you in each and every way.
To be continued ….
[1] Türkçe/ Turkcheh means Turkish. Yok means no/ none
[2] Mom in Turkish language
[3] Dogs
[4] Cats
[5] Hotcakes, Hunks, Studs, Stallions (you get my jest)
[6] Grandmother and Grandfather
[7] Bosphorus