Photo Essay: ISTANBUL : A LOVELY MESS

Culturally though, Istanbul benefits from the tension between tradition and modernity; it's a lovely mess.
Dwell magazine 11/2007

Prologue
Istanbul has consumed me for the past 2 years, and I have immersed myself in all things Istanbulu. (A highlight was meeting Turkish nobel laureate Orhan Pamuk this past Fall.) I am unable to articulate what drew me to Istanbul. However, if I examine my favorite Cities, uncanny similarities emerge: they often stand on shaky ground (SF, Tokyo, Istanbul); Mumbai was built on 7 islands, SF is 7 miles by 7 miles, Istanbul was built on 7 hills, Seven is my lucky number; Istanbul and NYC share the same telephone code (212).

It is often the juxtaposition of the urban and natural that excites me (Vancouver, SF); many of my destinations are struggling to reconcile their history with modernity (the NYT Spring 08 Travel magazine calls such places liminal).

April 04, 2008
Lufthansa
I have to confess that uptil today I was a Lufthansa virgin - this should come as a surprise considering I drive German and shoot German (that's a Leica not a firearm). The staff had a Bauhaus-like air of cold efficiency - I guess I prefer my pampering, Thank You. Three glasses of Riesling at 35000 ft created a comfortable removal from reality. As requested, I had an aisle seat - actually 2 seats, 2 pillows and 2 blankets at my disposal. Put all 3 to good use and contorted my body into positions that would make Angie (my former yoga teacher) proud.

April 05, 2008
Pink and Blue
Discovered some rose body lotion in my room at the Marmara Pera and lathered it on my dehydrated hands and feet. Had a fitful night - could faintly hear the thumpa-thumpa of Friday night 11 storeys below. A cacophony of muezzins began at 0530 and were joined by stirring crows and gulls. The sky turned the most unique shade of baby blue I have ever seen.

Began my tour of the Old City (Sultanahmet) at the Hippodrome (a Byzantine and Roman arena) and then made my way to the requisite Blue Mosque and Haghia Sophia. While I appreciated their historical and architectural significance, I was far from wow-ed. Perhaps I had expected too much? Then again, I was unimpressed with the Taj Mahal, too.

The Grand Bargain
Walked the maze of the Grand Bazaar relatively bother-free. About 45 minutes into my exploration, I was approached by a polite genteman in a light gray suit who offered to show me some carpets. (A Turkish rug was on my Shopping List so I obliged.) Suat began by offering me Turkish apple tea and displayed several styles of carpets and kilims. Discovered that I preferred the geometric patterns of the Turkmen rugs, and found a specimen that fit my size, color and quality (handmade, wool, adequate knot density, natural dyes) specifications. Told Suat I wished to peruse some of the alternative merchants but he offered to show me his companion stores instead. Was escorted to a large showroom near the entrance of the Grand Bazaar where he handed me off to Kemal.

Kemal began by congratulating me on the "carpet culture" of my native India (I viewed this as somewhat patronizing). An hour and hundred rugs later, my heart was still set on my initial pick. Listed Price (for Americans): $3000. Price for Persons of Lesser Means (such as Indians): $1200. My offer: $750. Final Price: $800. Another tea to celebrate. To boot, especially since I love a good mag endorsement, Kemal was featured in National Geographic Traveler last year: http://www.nationalgeographic.com/traveler/features/buycarpet0703.html

Walked the Galata Bridge with its avid fishing enthusiasts. Discovered the Kamondo Steps (of Wallpaper magazine photo spread fame). Istanbul's young were out - almost as hip and well-coiffed as their Tokyo counterparts.

Discovered that Istanbul also follows the Mumbai Traffic Code - no lanes, person who Gets There First or Has Biggest ---- has right of way. Relished the thrill of hurling myself into oncoming traffic Mumbai Ishtyle. And yes, I did make traffic stop.

April 06, 2008
How I Entered the Octagon with Grandpa
Rain was on the forecast so I figured I would do indoor stuff - the Istanbul Modern and an hamaam. Intently studying the latest Time Out Istanbul magazine, was horrified to read Canadian DJ Joshua Kloke's hamaam account that involved screams of agony, bruising and eye-gouging. Nevertheless, I decided to brave it if the venue felt right. Stumbled upon the clean and restored Galatasaray Hamaam (1481). $50 for Foam Bath and Massage (I was too terrified to endure the legendary Scrub - it conjured in me visions of blood-letting followed by pyoderma or worse). The monetary transaction took place in a central camekan reception area following which I was assigned a locker. Changed into a pesthemal (loin cloth) and the impossibly impractical takunya (wooden clogs). Passed through the sogukluk (shower/ cooling) area into the hararet (steam room). It was magical - exactly like the pictures I had seen. An octagonal marble stone lay below a grand dome with circular openings letting in streams of light. Chillout music and mood lighting added a modern touch. As I lay on the slab and gazed at the dome I entered a deeply relaxed state.

My masseur looked like he was 75 years old (I shall henceforth refer to him as Grandpa). Grandpa made me lay in the steam about 45 minutes - much longer than the locals. I figured Pops knows best - perhaps I need to sweat out toxins from my long trip? When he began the massage with rose scented oil, the aroma was heavenly. Grandpa treated me to hamaam lite: a shorter friendlier version that than the locals got. It was not painful but I was concerned about the quasi-chiropractic action. (He cracked my T spine and sequentially placed my major joints in hyperextension positions.) But I submitted to the wise old man and his charming smile. I figured He knows what I need. Then off to a cold soapy bath. By this time I had been reduced to an infantile state. Back in the sogukluk I was swaddled in 3 towels. A glass of tea completed the treatment.

Walking back I came upon COLIN'S - a chain of stores selling clothes to Istanbulu hipsters. Felt compelled to visit my namesake, and bought an inexpensive tee that read BETTER FASTER STRONGER COLIN'S. Tried to explain the name connection to the sales person. When he finally understood he was so excited he told all the sales staff. So when Colin left with Colin's bag, he was treated to a loud "BYE COLINS".

I have been eating pretty unhealthy since leaving SF. Turkey seems to be on a National Atkin's Diet. Attempted to balance my fat intake with a salad only to have the Turks sabotage me. To say that there was an ample amount of creamy dressing is an understatement. So I gave up and gave in.

April 07, 2008
PARTi TAKSi
Visited Kanyon - a mixed use complex designed by Jerde Architectural Partnership - in Levent. Was awed by its Guggenheimesque tiers and organic form. And was it just me or was the shape a reference to the Ottoman turbans?

The cabbie on the ride back tuned into Hit Mix Radio and turned up the bass. And then, for smoke machine effect, began to puff away vigorously. My most fun cab ride ever!

Close to Heaven
It is said the Turks built their places of worship on higher ground to be closer to God. I think they were right. Dinner at Mikla (the much acclaimed restaurant atop my hotel) was nothing short of heavenly. My reservation was for 7 pm, timed to watch the sun set behind the Golden Horn. The entire restaurant has unparalled 360 degree views of Istanbul. My particular table offered 180 degree views of the Sea of Marmara, beginning of the Bosphorus, Sultanahmet and the Golden Horn. My behind was planted firmly in Europe but I could see Asia with shocking clarity. Perhaps it was the particular elevation but it appeared as if I could reach across my table and pluck a minaret off of the Blue Mosque.

The waiter recommended a Turkish chardonnay. I am not normally a chardonnay person but this was not a Big Californian rather a subtle and delicious wine and perfect complement to my dinner. Began with smoked macarel mousse, aged Kaşar cheese with a salad and apple vinaigrette. The mousse was exquisite. My main course was grilled swordfısh, lemon spinach and fennel mousse (recurrent theme?) - also amazing. And to finish, I splurged on baked chocolate mousse and chocolate ice cream. This has to be one of the 3 best chocolate desserts I have ever had.

After my elevation-food high, was joined in my quarters by a medium sized roach. Squished it and left the corpse neatly under the bathroom rug for Housekeeping.

April 08, 2008
Bowled over by the Bosphorus
Over the past 3 days, Istanbul has grown on me like an itchy fungus. Today, the conversion was complete. The sun was finally out and it was the perfect day for a cruise. Consider the beauty of the SF Bay (or English Bay in Vancouver) - now picture 28 miles of Bosphorus shoreline. It is easy to see why John Freely left NYC for Istanbul in the 70s. I could easily imagine a life here.

Lost in Translation
While in Nişantasi, entered a small mom-and-pop joint only to have pop turn his head from side to side. I was just falling in love with Istanbul and felt like a spurned lover. Was I unwelcome here? I then remembered that this particular head movement signifies I DON'T UNDERSTAND. Relieved, I began some pointing and smiling, and ended up with a delicious lunch. (I am clueless as to what exactly I ate, but it tasted mighty good!) Meal complete, I was stunned to discover the gentleman was fluent in English. I am still trying to decipher his initial display, but for now will add this to my List of Cultural Mis-Happenings.

I had wanted a quiet kebap dinner in Tunel for my last night here, but my plans were thwarted by two businessmen types who seated themselves at the adjoining table, and insisted on striking up a conversation. They left abruptly when I did, which struck me as a bit odd. When they followed me to Mado (the icecream chain) and expressed a desire to take me out to a bar I was concerned. Nevertheless they heeded my request to leave me alone. This was the second such incident I had experienced. I was later told by the hotel staff that they are con men who are best avoided.

Epilogue
Byzantium. Constantinople. Stamboul. I have been completely seduced. It was not the big things that fascinated me, but what I shall call the Small Exotic: the lack of fluency in English despite abundant tourism; the ubiquitous cigarette smoke; the Turkish language keyboard that took me 3 days to master; xray machines and metal detectors at every building entrance; baby blue sunrises.

My entire stay, Istanbulus regarded me with a certain curiosity. In many ways it is refreshing that the tourist is as much on display as the place visited. It is therefore more fair-trade cultural exchange than one way gawking. (This "reversed objectifying gaze" was aptly portrayed by the Moroccans and a wounded Cate Blanchett in BABEL.)

I was interested to find words in common between Turkish and Hindi: hava, sabun, chai, dunye, gul.

My visit also furthered my penchant for the rose smell. This began with the Marks and Webb rose gel at the Claska in Tokyo and continued with my visit to the palaces of Rajasthan. Spurred on my the memory of rose petals in marble lotus bowls, I promptly adopted Le Labo's subversive men's fragrance Rose 31 as my signature scent. Gül was everywhere in Istanbul - from jam at breakfast to the after meal scented towelettes at Mado.

Istanbul superceded my fantasy - history and youth; East and West; Europe and Asia; Christianity and Islam; Grand Bazaar and Grand Kanyon...

It's all here in the Center of the World.*

*The Romans measured all distances in the Empire from the Milion in Constantinople; Napoleon reputedly remarked that if the entire World was a single State, Istanbul would be the Capital.