Tag: letters from istanbul
Letters from Istanbul: In Search of the ‘Real’ English
On the way to work the other morning, the taxi driver, noticing I was a yabancı, asked the usual, inevitable question.
“America,” I answered.
“Amerika?” the driver...
Letters from Istanbul: Yeldeğirmeni’s Quiet Renaissance
Author’s note: Last week, I wrote about the stories behind some of Istanbul’s street names, and the week before that I traced some of...
Confused Letters from Istanbul: Rude Sheiks and Mad Rams — A...
It is almost a cliché to say that behind every name in Istanbul there is a story; nevertheless, the saying is true.
For instance, I...
Letters from Istanbul: City of the Blind (Or, Why You Shouldn’t...
I live in Kadıköy, the “city of the blind.”
Have you heard this one?
Well, in ancient times, the first Greeks who arrived from Megara set...
Letters from Istanbul: The Anatolian Way
As a yabancı, you probably have your own first impressions of the city.
One of my own was made while coming from Ataturk International Airport...
Letters from Istanbul: Surrogate Lives
They were three sisters and they had all grown up together in a small town in the south of Turkey. The oldest, and the...
Letters from Istanbul: The Journey of a Tissue Pack
In the city of Istanbul many poor old women sell packets of tissue in the streets, mostly to passing motorists and the people sitting...
Letters from Istanbul: The Sum of Our Travels
The other day I was having lunch at Café Nero with one of the new teachers.
She said she came from Austin. Since I grew...