Memory is a funny thing. As much as it keeps record of reality, it also creates a reality of its own. As expats, we often believe that we “know” a place after spending a significant amount of time there. Even after moving on, we expect to find the city we left behind when we revisit. We forget, however, that the city changes, acquiring new tastes, expanding into new territory, and forging a new personality for itself.
I spent seven of my teenage years in Istanbul—exploring, rebelling, coming of age. Afterwards, I went to school in New York, but visited often. I believed that I still knew the city well. I moved back a few months ago and realized how wrong I was; I had spent seven years abroad and there were many things that had changed and many things I had forgotten.
It started as soon as I stepped foot in the city. While riding back from the airport, I realized many of the advertisements were in English—something I don’t remember seeing growing up. Later, I realized many signs in shops were also in Arabic and some even in Russian. The surge of tourism and globalization was making its mark on the streets of Istanbul with banners and signs in multiple languages—a trend I had clearly overlooked.
I was also in the dark about how much something should cost. I’ve always loved visiting the weekly pazars, which sell everything from fresh produce to cheap clothing and fake Louis Vuitton bags. I get thrilled finding a good bargain or, better yet, haggling down the price until it becomes a bargain. Of course, the key here is to know what that price should be—how much shirt a costs, how much a necklace is worth—something I seem to have lost track of.
“What do you mean this shirt is 20 TL? I won’t pay more than 5!” I started my usual rant the last time my mom and I were at the pazar.
“What world are you living in Madam? I paid more that 5 TL for it!” responded the stall owner.
This went on loudly for a while, as I kept reminding him that I’ve been here for 14 years and that I knew what a good price was. He instisted that I was crazy and that his prices were reasonable. Eventually, mom took me aside and informed me that he was right, that prices had changed. I walked away, embarrassed, without buying the shirt that I had spent 15 minutes fighting for.
As I paid more attention in the coming days, I realized indeed the prices have risen almost three or four times from what I remembered. Rent, food, clothes—nothing has been spared from inflation. Along with prices, there has also been a huge increase in traffic. I got places either significantly early or significantly late. It seems every road in Istanbul is packed at all times of the day. It takes something special—over 32,000 traffic jams a year according to a new Start-Stop Index by Castrol—to be ranked the second-most congested city in the world. Hence, I now neither know how much something should cost, nor how much time it should take me to get around.
My lifestyle in New York made me forget a couple of key things about Turkish customs. I forgot pleasantries such as “afiyet olsun” and “kolay gelsin” and often went in for a hug when meeting someone instead of the double kiss. I went into restaurants and waited patiently to be seated, while others walked past me and nabbed a table. I also forgot that taxi drivers are not tipped as often in Istanbul as they are in New York. I got a lot of weird stares when I walked away without my change. One driver even chased me down to return the money.
Something else I had completely forgotten was how much people smoke in Istanbul. I longed for a terrace or some sort of outdoor seating in New York, where the grid roads and freezing weather don’t allow for too many outdoor spaces. I had completely forgotten why these spaces were so necessary in Istanbul—so many people smoke! The amount of second-hand smoke you inhale on the streets is shocking after you have spent a bit of time away. Even New York’s air seems fresher.
On a more positive note, I didn’t remember Istanbul being as diverse of a city as it is now. Although Istanbul has always been a mix of the East and the West, we never saw much of the non-Turkish East or the West. Today the city has become truly cosmopolitan with new restaurants, a lively arts scene and international concerts. Even Broadway is here. While Istanbul has earned a place on the global map, the world has also slowly started making Istanbul its home.
Having said all this, there are many things I remember about Istanbul from a decade ago that still ring true. The food is still delicious, and the people are still warm. The tulips still bloom all along the Bosporus in April, only to be taken over by roses in June. The taxicabs still drive as if they are racing in Formula One. Many people sip çay and smoke cigarettes on street corners. There is still a friendly buzz in the air. If you hang out long enough in Taksim, as I did today, you will still find an impromptu group of men and women linking pinkies and dancing in the middle of the street.
As I spend more time in Istanbul, I realize I need to reclaim this city in my memory. I need to get a better understanding of its growth and development. When I leave Istanbul this time, it will be with a picture of a new city, an Istanbul closer to the reality of today. This time I will go forward knowing that my memory of this great city will never do justice to the intricate layers and depth that is hidden within its many hills and valleys.
Neeha Mujeeb is a contributor for Yabangee.