A magical city, indeed

On my last day in Istanbul I stayed with a wonderful Turkish family who divides their time between Istanbul and Philadelphia. For decades, they have had a lovely home high in the hills of Ortakoy overlooking the Bosporus River. The Bosporus River divides east from west, Europe from Asia, a critical waterway between the Black Sea and the Sea of Maramara. As the moon rose over the opposite shore, we ate fresh figs and peaches and drank Turkish coffee on the porch. Fisherman and drunken boys argued on the water's edge while a welcome breeze finally offered a reprieve from the August heat. I asked my host, Mr. Eroglu, what he thought of Istanbul and he replied without hesitation. "In Istanbul I feel old. A thousand years old." He gestured to the palace of a sultan across the river and then a fortress built by Constantine. Centuries of architecture and war, religious and cataclysmic ideological shifts have transformed the hills and soil and water of Istanbul and my host said that he felt that somehow his life was a continuation of all those lives and events that had come before.

On my first day in Istanbul, an old man holding two white rabbits asked if he could read my fortune for 1 lire. I found he and the bunnies rather charming, so I placed a coin in his hand and watched as he and one rabbit carefully selected and unrolled a blue piece of paper that provided wisdom for my life, much like a Chinese fortune cookie.

All kinds of superstition is woven seamlessly into the culture. To ward off evil spirits, a person can buy a blue medallion representing Medusa's eye (to deflect evil thoughts). I am my mother's daughter, a woman who happened to be surprisingly superstitious herself, so I happily offered the remains of my Turkish coffee to Mr. Ergolu when I was told one could learn about the future from the sediment at the bottom.

Istanbul is a wildly fascinating place. Boasting a population of 20 million people, this massive, throbbing city is home to Kurds and Turks, Muslims and Marxists, all of whom stumbled across my path throughout my visit. Such a friendly place where gestures of hospitality are offered through Chai tea and banter. Ramadan kept things rather quiet during the day, but could not keep the smokers at bay nor the carpet sellers from aggressively selling their wares.


The pictures are from the Blue Mosque, the Aya Sofya, a boat cruise on the river, a Kurdish neighborhood near Taksim, and a carpet shop in Sultanahmet.