First Day in Istanbul

Yesterday, my host Halil woke up before me in the morning, drove to the market on his motorbike for fresh ingredients, and had breakfast ready the minute I rolled out of bed!

My first day in Turkey feels like 3 or 4...so many sights, smells, tastes, sounds, new people all rolled into one...I don't know where to begin! The day began with the previously mentioned breakfast: a ready made omelet, salad with lemon juice dressing, yogurt and bread. Then, I hopped on the back of Halil's red Honda motorbike and we were off for the day, weaving in and out of traffic on hilly, cobblestone streets, cruising along breezy highways with glistening views of the sea, dodging traffic through stone archways and city sidewalks, as the bike occasionally sputtered and Halil called out, "the chain is going to break very soon! I hope not now!". It was both a terrifying and exhilarating experience! All this and with no helmet or protective guard on me...that part I wasn't so crazy about. So, I said a lot of prayers, held tight, and insisted that we buy another helmet the minute I had a chance.

We arrived in the part of town where Halil works at a 4 star hotel and I was left to wander around the grounds of the Blue Mosque and inside of the Hagia Sophia. Walking alone, every where I wandered the shopkeepers called after me, "Excuse me, where are you from?" The first few inquiries made me feel compelled to satisfy their curiosity, but I quickly learned that answering this introductory question opened up a whole can of worms, leading to harassment. Unfortunately, I realized this after one shopkeeper placed his greasy hand on my arm telling me to have tea with him and dinner later. Yuck. So, I rapidly understood that the best tactic to avoid such unpleasant encounters was to walk along impassively and ignore any questions regarding my cultural origin. This resulted in a somewhat comical, domino-effect chorus of "Excuse me, where are you from?" trailing behind me wherever I seemed to go!

At one point in the heat of the early afternoon, I stopped to buy an ice cream cone. After what I found to be an annoying tease of a show, where the vendor keeps pretending to give you the cone on a metal stick and faking you out, he finally placed the cone in my hand and asked "Where are you from, are you Spanish?" No, I answered. To which he replied, "Greek?" No. "Portuguese?" No. "Italian?" No. Baffled, he finally gave me one more quizical look and asked, "Turkish?!" Pleased with my inconspicuousness, I answered finally, "New York", as I walked away...leaving him bewildered.

The rest of my day was a whirlwind of walking all over various streets and neighborhoods of Istanbul with various company including Halil (who I insisted buy a new chain for his motorbike BEFORE it broke), a 24-year old Chinese-American from L.A., and several new Turkish acquaintances through couch surfing. I trekked many miles through this enormous city.