How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the ‘Bul

During my first few months in Istanbul I wasn’t exactly bowled over by the place. I thought it was pushy, crowded, ugly and disorganised. Having been here for a year, I still think it’s pushy, crowded, ugly and disorganised but now I’ve grown an affection for it. And it’s not just a matter of getting used to Istanbul; after a while the city starts to affect (infect?) you. Your impatience grows but so does your openness and before you realise it you’re an Istanbullu.

The process of assimilation goes something like this:

• Look at all this exciting chaos!
• Oh god, how am I going to live with this chaos?
• Ok, I think I can cope with the chaos.
• What chaos?

Confrontation
Being English my default stance is to avoid confrontation at all costs. But there is nothing like a year in Istanbul to knock that out of you. When I arrived, I found myself constantly walking in the gutter because no-one seems to give way on the pavement. I would gradually edge through the whole bus to get away from the man that always stands too close; too embarrassed to tut and move away in case I was mistaken and insulted him in some way. These days, while I’m not exactly starting street-fights, I do find myself far more likely to stand up for myself and others around me. And I’ve finally stopped apologising when people walk into me – surely the most ridiculous of English habits.

Little little into the middle*
The Istanbul meyhane is the most chaotic type of dining you’ll likely experience. At record speed, dishes are whisked past you, choices are made, and before you can say ‘what’s semizotu again?’ there was a selection of meze in front of you and everyone is cracking open the Raki. People leave or arrive halfway through the evening; unknown foods gets plonked on your plate; people smoke while others are eating; and waiters start clearing the table before everyone has finished. It breaks every polite dining rule I’ve ever been taught. However, it didn’t take long for my stiff-upper lip to give way to enjoyment. And, now that I remember to shout out an order for semizotu, it’s my favourite form of dining. After a year of grazing over dishes of meze and fish and meat and bread and salad, the idea of ordering just a single plate of food again seems unbelievably dull.

Cleanliness
I’m a strong believer in the old adage that a bit of dirt never hurt anyone, so I’m not a fan of the near-obsessive cleaning in Turkey. However, after months of grumbling at people about superbugs and development of immune systems, I finally realised that it does have one major advantage. A large proportion of seedy establishments actually have really decent toilets; clean, with ample soap and toilet paper, and automatic water and hand towels. Don’t get me wrong, I’m aware bad toilet facilities exist but their numbers are very few compared to every other city I’ve been to.

The driving
If you’ve been in Istanbul for more than 10 minutes you’ll have noticed the driving is a little bit terrifying. Stop at an amber light or slow down before turning a corner and it’s all blaring horns and angry hand gestures. But, believe it or not, there is patience in Istanbul drivers. Drive the wrong way into a one-way underpass? People will wait quietly for you to three-point turn. Double-park your car on a narrow road? People will mount the curb so they don’t hit your wing mirror. It’s the ultimate proof of how us Istanbullus have learned to stop worrying and embrace the chaos.

* For the uninitiated, there is a brilliant stand-up routine by Cem Yilmaz about how, regardless of the restaurant, Turks never look at menus and always want food served meyhane style; ‘everything little little into the middle’.

Beth Thomas is a contributor to Yabangee