High Contrast

Although on the surface Istanbul may seem as cosmopolitan as any Western city, Turkey, as the Turks so readily point out, ain’t Europe.

As more days whizz by I am beginning to notice a number of intruiging differences between our cultures. For example, you can drive like a maniac here, blatently disregarding the rules of lanes, overtaking in the face of oncoming traffic, and traffic lights. As they say in Istanbul when crossing the road, look left, look right, then look up. However if you whip your mobile phone out and use it on a bus, you get a reaction akin to being a paedophile at a toddlers picnic. Mobile phone signals, I learned, interfere with ABS breaking systems. Even though most of the buses should have been sent to the scrap heap long before ABS was even heard of.

Another contrast. Last night I was in a Spanish bar eating tapas with a couple of expats. Shocked was I, to see a 20 year old Turkish girl writhing on the lap of someone who I can only hope was not her father, and simulating oral sex with a cactus. However, when I tried to log onto youtube this morning I discovered I was banned from doing so by the 12th criminal court of peace.

Turks are predominantly muslim. Some love bacon. Most love drinking. But they are also obsessed with the supernatural and the ever present threat of ‘the evil eye’. Best of all, they have fortune telling bunnies. Stroll along almost any high street and you will see an old man with a white rabbit on a table. Stroke the rabbit and it picks out a tarot card for you. I kid thee not. They are also obsessed with reading tea leaves and coffee grinds.

In fact they are obsessed with tea in general. It’s quite usual to see a young Turk put 3 or 4 sugars into a small glass of tea and eat three treacly cakes, but offer them a can of coke and they will recoil in horror.

It is considered acceptable to serve Nescafe from a machine in a ‘coffee house’ here. And every street has a Starbucks. Some women wear headscarves to cover their modesty, and then pencil on so much kohl they can barely open their eyes.

Power and water cuts are an inevitable part of life. Sometimes the water goes out for days. Electricity, always when you are in the shower. Actually I’ve had 3 power cuts since I started typing.

Advertising here is chaotic and usually overtly sexual. As a bigwig from Vodafone global complained: ‘the TV adverts here are terrible, its like being caught a washing machine.’ A Turk was quick to reply: ‘yes and Turkish emotions are like washing machines too. We don’t respond to your boring grey adverts.’

Last night I was lucky enough to meet the Turkish equivalent of the rat pack. By that I mean the Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra of Turkey. As I mentioned before I was in a tapas bar, when an old crooner grabbed the mike from the performers and did some serious schmoozing. And so a night of merriment began.

I have decided not to take the apartment by the sea. Firstly because I realised how far it was from any form of life. The ‘village’ is tiny and only has two restaurants. Buses stop running at 12. It takes an hour by bus in mild traffic to get into the town centre. I may have lost a little deposit but I’d rather that then get stuck somewhere which will cost me a months rent in taxis every week.

Today I am off exploring areas again. As pissed off as I am with hotel living, it was a bad idea to rush into anything.

I may have mentioned that next week I will be joined by my former boss from the czech republic, Martin Jaros. He will be my manager again, which amuses me greatly.

Aside from that, in the week I’ve been exhausted. At the weekend I have been painting the town red (and throwing in a star and a moon for good measure). I think I very much like it here.