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You can call me SL, this is about living.  |
interior of Murad Mosque (Murad Camii)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
interior of Yeni Mosque (Yeni Camii), commonly called New Mosque
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
interior of Sultanahmet Mosque (Sultanahmet Camii), commonly called Blue Mosque
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
interior of Nusretiye Mosque (Nusretiye Camii)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
interior of Süleymaniye Mosque (Süleymaniye Camii)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
interior of Beyazit Mosque (Beyazit Camii)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive November 9, 2011 Domes I cannot say exactly when I first fell in love with architecture, whether it happened through pictures in a book or in real life. I can say that it happened at an early age. Somewhere in my late teens, I was convinced I would one day live in a medieval castle somewhere in England. Not a Cinderella type castle, nor a haunted castle, but a happy bright one. And one with a manageable yard. I realize now that castles come with land, not yards. How that fairy tale manifested, I cannot recall. During college, my friend and I spend a summer in Europe, two months studying Environmental Design in Italy and one month backpacking around other countries on the continent. As we walked around Florence on our first night in town, we rounded the corner past the Uffizi Gallery and were instantly dwarfed by the Duomo. Never have I felt so small. And never have I been silenced in that way, I am the chatty type. I stood there with my head up, mouth open, and stared. We both did. We looked at each other, waiting for the other to say something but neither of us did. There was nothing to say. The Duomo spoke for itself. I spent that summer straining my neck and experiencing architectural feats one after another. Since that summer, it has been hard to match the architectural wonders of Italy in my travels, until Istanbul.* There is something very unique and special about cities like Florence and Istanbul where the city's history announces itself at every turn. When you look at the Istanbul skyline, your eye pans from mosque to mosque to mosque. At a quick glance they look fairly similar to one another, except for Hagia Sophia who holds her own among them. Deservingly so, she has more than 1,000 years on the next oldest mosque in the city. What surprised me most about the mosques is how different the interiors varied. Each has its own identity. Inside the mosques, I once again found myself standing with my head up, mouth open, and staring. This time I was not at a loss of words but wandered around only able to verbalize, "wow, wow, wow." Occasionally, I brought my gaze down to its normal position, fearful that I would bump into someone else, or worse, get pickpocketed. Unfortunately, that once happened to my sister here in New York City. It was actually my fault. As we walked down Madison Avenue one evening, I gestured for her to look upwards at a beautiful church. She did, and it cost her her wallet. *Three weeks, three days, and 8,549 photos later, The Swede and I are home. We have been home now for several weeks, but what happened to those days, I do not know. Somehow they have slipped by. archives: Architecture, Travel |
pigeons in front of The New Mosque (Yeni Camii)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
boy proudly holding a captured pigeon on top of the City Walls in Edirnekapi
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
pigeons in Taksim Square
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
pigeons roosting on The Column of Constantine (Çemberlitas Sütunu)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
pigeons at Topkapi Palace (Topkapi Sarayi)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive October 20, 2011 Pigeons Many urban dwellers equate pigeons to rats, referring to them as "rats with wings." Pigeons like rodents and roaches are adaptable, resilient, pesky, and have the ability to survive severe conditions. I have come to feel more affection for pigeons than I have in the past, but to say that I really like them is a stretch. I see them as another entity in the background of urban life, similar to taxis, shouting persons, or fire truck sirens. More despised on my list are seagulls. (Years ago, one actually had the audacity to swoop down, brush my shoulder, and take a bite from my ice cream cone, while I stood observing sea lions at Pier 39 in San Francisco. My fingers remained intact but my cone did not and that annoyed me. It had been Häagen-Dazs. Unforgiveable.) The people of Istanbul seem to embrace, rather than reject the massive flocks of pigeons that congregate on and around every major monument. Pigeon feed is sold and purchased outside many mosques and buildings noticeably lack anti-roosting spikes. Mary Poppins and the song and scenes from "Feed the Birds" runs through my mind and so does the threat of being hit by pigeon poop. Italians say it is good luck to get pooped on, and my brother-in-law once received a dose of "good luck" while we waited to get a glimpse of Pope John Paul II in Saint Peter's Square in Rome. My brother-in-law thought it was double the luck, being christened by a "papal pigeon." archives: Miscellaneous, Travel |
Artist Unknown
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive October 12, 2011 Street Art continued... Surprisingly, there is very little Street Art in Istanbul. I imagined beautiful stylized patterns and Arabic script. A complete naive fantasy. Nevertheless, for a major urban city, I would expect a lot more graffiti. The little amount of graffiti I have seen seems to be done by a handful of artists. This Istanbul version of "The Eye" is not exceptionally skillful, but the artist is committed to it which I respect. It is a bit fun and happy with its accentuated eyelashes and whimsical line quality. I found it in abundance on a quaint sloping cobblestone street that focuses on selling musical instruments. Taking an early morning walk gave me an opportunity to see the work on various roll gates that would otherwise be hidden during shopping hours. archives: Street Art, Travel |
cat napping in the Eminönü District
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
cat napping in the Eminönü District
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive October 5, 2011 Space With a population of more than 8 million people in New York City, I often find myself needing a little personal space. Unfortunately my needs are rarely met. Just when I think I have found a quiet spot, the moment is shattered by a honking horn, or someone shouting, or some other city noise. Istanbul has a population of over 13 million people. That is 5 million more individuals that need space of their own. If you count stray cats and dogs into their population, the sum could easily reach 20 million. Purely a guess. How can you estimate the number of strays? Cats being the agile creatures they are, are found in the unlikeliest of places and here is one who looked like it had finally found a place of its own. Nestled in the shade of a metal roof, I almost missed the ginger haired beauty in the bright midday sun. But luckily for me, it did catch my eye, and I stood there for several minutes gushing over its cuteness and snapping photos. The cat stirred, likely thinking that if it remained still, the annoying paparazza tourist would eventually go away. archives: Miscellaneous, Travel |
vendor offering me a strawberry at the Fatih Market
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
vendor proudly shows off his cabbage at the Fatih Market
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
vendor selling phyllo dough sheets at the Fatih Market
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
vendor giving me the "shaka sign" at the Fatih Market
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
vendor and his spices at the Fatih Market
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive September 30, 2011 Fatih Market Having accomplished nearly all of my to-do list in Istanbul, I set out to find a mosque and a street market off the beaten path. The neighborhood in mind was Fatih and it seemed complicated and easy to reach all at once. It turned out to be both. The planned route would take me through Sultanahmet (Old City), three stops past the furthest one I have been, from there a short walk to a Metro line, one stop, and a short walk to the Fatih mosque and surrounding markets. This all becomes exponentially more difficult once you miss your stop, no one speaks the same language as you, and you have to desperately use the bathroom. I got it together, backtracked to the right stop by walking parallel to the tram tracks, and "felt" my way there. Prior to venturing to Fatih, I read that it had a more local scene, was more conservative, "so dress accordingly." In the center of Istanbul, you will find a disproportionate number of men than women. When I arrived in Fatih, I realized where all the women were, they were shopping in the market for things like clothing, housewares, and food. Prices were lower, fresh fruit and vegetables outnumbered other items, skirt hems were longer, more women were "covered", and more men were wearing caps. And vendors were more friendly. Understandably, in main tourist areas like the Grand Bazaar and Spice Bazaar, vendors can have short tolerance levels (tourists are annoying after all, myself included). The vendors at the Fatih Market were excited to have a foreigner amongst their regulars and no one minded me taking photos of their offerings. Many in fact, asked to have their photo taken. A customer even asked me to photograph he and his daughter. As he scribbled onto a torn piece of a paper bag, I realized he wanted me to email him the photo. I did, and he likes it. He replied. archives: Food, Travel |
cat with "evil eye" collar
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive September 27, 2011 Two things that I can say with confidence, the Turkish people have a great affection for cats and a strong belief in the "evil eye." Both are seen everywhere. Stray cats are found all over the city, inside and out. You will find them in restaurants, cafés, mosques, museums, embassies, shops, and just about any other place that you can think of (or not think of). And they are welcomed, as I said, Istanbullus have a great affections for cats. The "evil eye" is also found throughout the city, adorning building fronts, constructions sites, car parks, businesses, etc. The sight of an "evil eye" charm is so abundant that when our hotel, which is still partially under construction, added a small charm over the entrance, it was instantly noticeable. It somehow validated our hotel as a hotel. Sitting on a bench outside a café, I noticed this lounging cat under a row of small shrubs. It is hard to say whether or not this cat is a stray based on its collar. I would not be surprised to find out that it is a stray. Strays are cared for here so well, to a level I have never witnessed in any other place, that it is perfectly conceivable to think that someone gave it an "evil eye" collar to keep it safe. I like to think it is true, a sweet gesture and an example of the need to protect all that you love. archives: Miscellaneous, Travel |
süt misir (sweet corn) cart outside Ayasofya (Hagia Sophia Museum)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
süt misir (sweet corn), price - 1TL outside Ayasofya (Hagia Sophia Museum)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
vendor and customer cooking süt misir (sweet corn) outside Ayasofya (Hagia Sophia Museum)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive September 22, 2011 Süt Misir Similar to the way hot dog, bagel, nut, and Halal carts are the face of New York City; corn, chestnuts, Turkish bagel (looks like a pretzel), and pomegranate juice carts are the face of Istanbul. I assume süt misir means sweet corn. It is eaten by all and naked cobs can be seen littered around the city. (At least it is biodegradable.) As The Swede and I were looking for a cab to hail, a taxi driver pulled over, parked his car, got out, and bought a süt misir. We approached unsure if he was for hire, but he said he was free to take us. We halfway assumed we would wait for him to finish his snack, but he insisted he was ready. Off we went. He proceeded to drive us back to our hotel, one hand on the wheel, one hand eating his cob, all the while talking and pointing out various points of interest in the city. It was a nice ride, at a nice pace, unhurried, and smooth. Turkish drivers are known for being...not the best. Perhaps eating a corncob while driving helped our driver to take it easy. archives: Food, Travel |
street vendor juicing pomegranates outside Ayasofya (Hagia Sophia Museum)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
pomegranates on ice outside Ayasofya (Hagia Sophia Museum)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive September 20, 2011 Forbidden Fruit There is an expression in Chinese that roughly translates to "watch what you eat," or "refrain from eating." It does not have so much to do with dieting, as with being cautious in indulging in something you know is not good for you. I have good self control when it comes to limiting foods that are artificial, or that are rich in fats and sugars. But I could do much better when it comes to food safety. I have learned my lesson many times. After two very serious bouts of food poisoning earlier this year, I am being good. So far. Fresh pomegranate juice is tempting me at every corner. Everywhere in the city, there are beautiful ruby red pomegranates that are squeezed by order. And it is inexpensive. In the past I would have thought nothing of it, but like I said, I went through two serious bouts of food poisoning, one that included oysters. Not fun. Although the tap water is perfectly safe in Istanbul, The Swede and I are being cautious. There is nothing worse than getting sick while traveling. So we have stuck to bottled water, even when brushing our teeth. I learned this "trick" years ago. No matter how carefully we ate, my family and I always got sick on trips to Asia. We were told that even brushing our teeth with tap water could cause illness. On a trip to Thailand, my Mother and I were doing great sticking to the bottled water routine. No sickness. Then we visited a roadside farm stand where we indulged in fresh squeezed orange juice. Unpasteurized orange juice. My Mother was instantly sick, a few hours later it was my turn. Conveniently being in the middle of nowhere at the Golden Triangle, a very kind local man let me use his bathroom, which turned out to be a wooden shack. No comment. So alas, no pomegranate juice for me this trip. (But secretly, I keep thinking maybe I should have it right before the flight home. If I do get sick, at least I will already be on my way home...) archives: Food, Travel |
Tarihi Eminönü Balik Ekmek (floating fish boats) as seen from Galata Köprüsü (Galata Bridge)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
fried fish sandwich with onion and lettuce (fish species unknown), price - 5TL
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
pickled cabbage and cucumbers, price - 1.5TL
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
cook preparing deep fried hamsi (anchovies)
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
fish menu
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive 
deep fried hamsi (anchovies) served with onion, lettuce, lemon, price - 6TL
Istanbul, Turkey from my 2011 archive September 16, 2011 Fish The Swede and I wandered around the ancient streets of Sultanahmet (yes, we are in Istanbul, Turkey!), confused, sleep deprived, and in culture shock, in search of hot food. We came to the Galata Bridge on the Golden Horn and spotted bright lights and throngs of people. We headed towards them. Then came the wonderful scent of fish. Spurred by hunger and a recollection of an Anthony Bourdain episode that I halfheartedly watched before departing, I sprang into action. I blurted to The Swede, "I remember this, I know how to do this, give me some money." I observed a paper sign with a number on it, handed a man standing in front of a docked boat 10 Turkish lira and held up the number two with my fingers. He took my money, walked a few steps towards a man frying fish on the boat, received one sandwich, then another, then he handed them to me. We quickly found seats on tiny wooden stools at an equally tiny table supplied with salt and lemon juice as condiments. We bought a plastic cup filled with cabbage and cucumbers pickled in beet juice (?) from a man walking around with a tray and chomped away. We were hungry, the sandwich was large, the fish was fresh, and it was cheap. We were happy. During the course of the 20 minutes we sat consuming our sandwiches, children endlessly tried to sell us candy. I assumed it was gum because it reminded me of children in Mexico that try to sell "chicle" to foreigners. But that is an assumption based on prior experiences, so next time I will buy some to find out what type of candy they are really selling. On the other side of the Galata Bridge, we found a fish market selling fresh fish to take home and for consumption on the spot. Still hungry and still curious, we bought a portion of deep fried hamsi (anchovies). The fryer had a well in the middle with a wide brim where the fish was laid when it was ready. Again, it was a large portion, the fish was fresh, it was cheap, and we were happy. The hamsi had a more distinct character and was slightly salty. The Swede and I both agreed that we preferred the hamsi to the fish sandwich based on taste alone. Having taken our hamsi to-go, we headed towards the tram to find our way back to our hotel. Along the way, a small kitten ran out from under a bush towards us. It was a cute little thing with one eye. We gave it two pieces of our fish, and it contently ate them, completely ignoring the masses of people 50 times its size that passed, some stopping to take photos. In Istanbul, there are a greater number of stray cats than stray dogs, but plenty of both. I have observed the people being very loving towards the strays, stopping to pet them, feed them, and you will find bowls of water and food laid out on stoops. I have yet to spot any rodents. Perhaps New York City needs a controlled number of strays to patrol its streets and subways. And it could definitely use some boats selling fresh fish along its shores. archives: Food, Travel |
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