two young girls wear the same outfits although they are different heights. there must have been a deal -- buy in bulk, bulks of two. cats dominate the city and behave unlike their american counterparts.
i speak with a man has just begun working at a turkish delight stand in the spice bazaar and he gives me samples. he learned english by reading classic literature. he speaks with flowery language. i wish i intended to actually buy his products.
it's election season. the streets are rife with volunteers and fliers. in eminönü, a group of young people dance in a circle chanting and singing slogans. a crowd gathers around. on main streets, hundreds of flags hang above with names and faces and logos. one of the parties is represented by a light bulb with an orange and blue motif. theirs are the best aesthetics of the parties.
the exterior of the blue mosque overshadows that of hagia sophia. they face each other in a centuries-long stand off. there are no high rises buildings or sky scrapers, but these pepper the outskirts of the tremendously large city. minaretis punctuate the center city skyline.
boats and vapurs criss-cross on the bosphorous expertly. fins break the surface, much to my surprise. i turn to the woman next to me, and she nods -- i was not imagining. i ask if they are sharks or dolphins but she does not understand. i bare my teeth and clack them together. she shakes her head and says no. they must be dolphins.
the eve of my departure, we walk down a pedestrian street and a german kid approaches me and says hello. he offers me some wine and i accept. he is following turkish friends to a party. we tag along.
at the club, we get in because we are with the turkish kid with dreadlocks. he knows the bouncer. we walk three stories up a spiral staircase.
a minimalist house dj plays on a semi-covered patio. young people crowd his unraised booth and dance unconsciously. it is hot. men’s shirts are unbuttoned. women wear loose blouses. an italian girl speaks to me and tells me it’s her last night. i express sadness but it doesn’t mean much to me because i am only visiting. we quickly part ways.
in the bathroom, i wait in line with young people who adjust in the mirror while they wait. i meet a boy who says he is studying to become a ship captain. i wonder if it is just his character for the party, but he seems too tame. maybe that is part of his character -- the humble ship captain apprentice. he is a very good or very bad actor. i speak with a girl who has shaved half of her head. she is an artist. she loves paris and wonders how i found this bar. there are not many foreigners. i tell her about the boy with the dreadlocks.
before i leave, i try to say goodbye but she has already forgotten me. i am a little disappointed.
on the way home, we successfully haggle for ice cream scoops. everything is negotiable.
// end travels + pseudo-retro-diary