Sadece İstanbul'da - Only In Istanbul - An Erkenci Kuş Story

Kız Kulesi

I knew Aslı was already asleep because she had to take her exams on the next day. I crawled happily into the comfy bed and soon a colourful sleep with warm oriental hues claimed me.

An unusual sound woke me up as it was still dark outside. It was like a chant whose guttural accents called on to the very core of my being. It was uplifting and mystical. However, my internal clock quickly shut off my need for the divine and I went back to sleep practically immediately. The celestial guardians watching over me would have to wait for a "decent" hour.

The sun was shining high and proud when I decided to force myself out of the comfort of the sheets. Aslı had left a few hours ago already so I decided to explore my friend's apartment. It was small but cosy. I smiled at the sight of familiar objects: the traditional two-part teapot, the blue charm against the evil eye, the kolonya bottle by the television ... I had never been to Turkey before but I felt home. Some say that home is where the heart is, Istanbul was already feeling very dear to my heart and to my soul. I didn't believe in reincarnation but I had that deja-vu sense that I had been here before, maybe in a previous life of mine, who knew?

I dived into the fridge to retrieve the breakfast dishes that Aslı had left for me and placed them hastily on the living-room table: a tomato and cucumber salad, simit and honey and two warm and fragrant glasses of çay I religiously prepared ... Çay was sacred and not to be messed with. I sighed out of contentment. My day was going to be grand and I would start with the grandest of all Istanbul monuments: Aya Sofia. I felt I could conquer the world that day. I felt like Mehmet II the day he conquered Constantinople.

Aslı had left me instructions to reach the European side of Istanbul. I was to take the ferry in Kadıköy, a few streets away from the apartment. She would meet me in Taksim Square later that night, after she'd finished with her exam. I arrived at the ferry terminal where a large crowd pressed itself. It was fascinating to see how Europe and Asia had met and merged in Istanbul, gifting the city with an incredible variety of faces and styles. Most men had a beard, many women wore a scarf on their hair, tourists could be recognized by their sporty backpacks .... It was an amazing melting pot of cultures and traditions.

The doors opened and people strode decidedly towards the boat. I reluctantly chose a seat inside because the air was extremely cold that morning. I settled down next to a window and the ferry soon left the dock to cross the Bosphorus, winking at Kız Kulesi on the way past and waving at the great bridge - "my" bridge as I claimed ownership of it when I was 8 - connecting Asia and Europe.

I smiled and the words flew out of my mouth .. "Deniz çok güzel ..." and echoed back straight away in my mind "Evet çok güzel". As I was lost in my bitter sweet reminiscence, the dulcet accents of a well-known melody reached my ears. That was definitely a sign! The great city had recognized me as one of its own. It was greeting me, welcoming one of its children back. I sang along the beloved music, lost in that moment. I made a memory, giggling at myself "I'm on the Bosphorus listening to Bana Ellerini Ver ... inanılmaz ya!" I couldn't stop smiling and I caught the amused look of a young man with warm brown eyes sitting a few seats away from me. I smiled at him, carried away by the magic of the moment. My mom would have loved it! I took out my phone, snapped a quick shot of the European shore and sent it to her straight away.

I grew up in a peculiar environment. Although we had always lived in an elegant suburb of Brighton, England, everything inside our house reminded us of my parents' common love for Turkey and for Istanbul in particular. So, as far as I could remember, our TV was mostly speaking Turkish rather than English and the heroes of my youth were called Ömer or Melek, rather than John or Kate.

Remembering all the series I had watched with my mom, it struck me how Istanbul always seemed to play an important part within the story. It was really a character in itself. The love Turkish people felt for the historical capital resonated even through the flimsy storylines of their series.

After landing in Karaköy, the tram became an experience I would never forget. Each wagon was stuffed to the brim with passengers who almost seemed happy about it! There was a joyous, child-like mood that intoxicated each and every one of us and brought a smile to our faces transforming the stuffy packed ride into an almost pleasant journey all the way to Sultan Ahmet station.

It was impossible, unthinkable not to visit Aya Sofia while in Istanbul. It was a milestone in the History of the world but also a milestone in my own personal history. My mom often told me how the visit of the great mosque had been a turning point in her and my father's lives. After a few days discovering the city together, they had eventually visited the Byzantium masterpiece. In awe, transported by so much beauty and magnificence, she had taken my dad's hand in hers without realizing she was doing it. He had said nothing, too happy to comply, walking around the marble floors, looking up at the golden cupolas and admiring the millennial mosaic frescos. It was only, once outside, that she had become aware of their hands tightly intertwined. Flushed by the intimacy of such a move, she had glanced at him shyly first but one look at their interlocked fingers had been enough for them to know that they would spend the rest of their lives together. They had enjoyed the whole afternoon in the gardens talking and pampering the cats that guarded the place. He had bought her a cute necklace with small brass tulips. She had offered him a key ring with a grape of blue-eyed talismans...

Sitting on the same bench, next to the museum shop, enjoying the frail Turkish sun onto my face, I reminisced the story of their love. Buried in the pocket of my coat, one of my hands was playing with my father's key ring while the other was stroking absent-mindedly the head of a furry guardian. I closed my eyes, thinking about fate, destiny or any other term you chose to call it. If it was meant to be, life would take you exactly where you were supposed to be. Whether it be in the gardens of Aya Sofia or on the faded fabric of a Bosphorus ferry seat ...

Before leaving for Taksim, I decided to let myself go with the flow of the city, to listen to the chaotic voice of Istanbul, to accept the smiling warm caramel eyes that were presently laughing in my head ...

Terlikler = slippers
"tamam, tamam Aslı Teyze, sakin ol ya!" = Alright, alright Aunt Aslı, calm done now!
Mahalle = district
"Deniz çok güzel ..." "Evet çok güzel" = the sea is very beautiful ... Indeed very beautiful
"inanılmaz ya!"= Incredible!

PS 1: I took the chapter picture when I went to Istanbul in April 2019

PS 2: the anecdote of "bana ellerini ver" is true as there are always performers on the ferries.