Tarlabasi Will Outlive Us All

Istanbul / Visitar
en por Adventureist /  Martin Selsoe, 13. ago 2009

This rumbustious city is an incredibly attractive spot for internal and external migrants who, upon entry into Istanbul, are engulfed by its rundown shantytowns and ghettos.

Tarlabasi, a shantytown located in the heart of Istanbul just a few minutes walk from Taksim Square, is considered to be a no-go area among many Istanbullus and tourists alike because it is believed to house the most discontent of the migrant communities in Istanbul.

It’s amusing to watch many a backpacker dive randomly from Tarlabasi Avenue into one of the side streets only to come out looking petrified minutes later. I, on the other hand, consider myself a local in Istanbul and I confidently venture into the core of Tarlabasi, passing smiles and nods at voluptuous Roma women perched on the sidewalk washing the sooth off their carpets into the street and at dozens of loquacious youths playing football.

Although the ethnic composition of each wave of migration that Tarlabasi received since the 1990s is disputed, the prevalence of Kurdish and Roma residents is quite obvious. Passing by barbershops and bakkals, small grocery stores selling mostly outdated goods, I also hear what I assume to be Nigerian and Arabic blending into the beat of the Arabesque music whizzing out of the butchers.

In fact, this dainty and piquant neighborhood in the Beyoglu district is traditionally home to Istanbul’s Greek Orthodox community and has for long been a proud, affluent area known for its beautiful apartments, breezy alleys, and the city’s largest Syriac church.

I usually stop in front of large, ornate buildings to read the engravings over the gate or on the façade. Most buildings are dated around 1800s and look tired, grim and hung-over.

There and then I wonder: Is Tarlabasi, once a lively, throbbing neighborhood accommodating Greeks, Armenians, Syriacs, and Muslims, now nearing its poor and destitute death? Then again, I gaze at the jazzy collection of wigs, boas, and funky underwear lining the windows of Tarlabasi Avenue shops, and listen to the jeer of countless children playing hopscotch on its streets and think: “Tarlabasi will outlive us all”.

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This Is Not What I Ordered

Istanbul / Comer
en por Adventureist /  Martin Selsoe, 20. may 2009

How does a small, modest establishment survive amidst a string of luxurious waterside mansions, several state-of-the-art shops of international coffee retailers and expensive fish restaurants? The answer is simple really: With its staff of five jumpy waiters, a boisterous and jovial cook and a pleasant smell of fresh ground Turkish coffee oozing out of small, uneven, wooden windows, Emek Kahve defeats capitalism in one quick blow.

Located beautifully by the Yeniköy pier on the northern part of the Bosporus, the front part of coffee house hosts bands of local shopkeepers, cabbies, grocers and unemployed men, who perch on their chairs all day playing cards and sipping tea. Out in the back of the coffee house, though, lies a more fascinating and quite obscure dining hall, which initially seems to be merely an extension of the kitchen.

One must follow the smell of eggs scrambled in butter to figure out that this dining hall stretches out towards the waterfront and can seat 40 people on its old, wooden benches under a cascade of vine leaves. Sorry Starbucks!

I usually go there on a weekday morning and after securing a nice chair by the water, I order the menemen, an authentic egg dish, dunk some crisp white bread in its juice and wash it down with some freshly brewed Turkish tea.

As I unroll my newspaper, I listen to the sound of the leaves bristling overhead- only to be interrupted by the giggle of one of the older waiters of Emek. I don’t know if he enjoys picking on regulars but he almost always attempts to play tricks on me.

Once, after acknowledging that I am annoyingly picky about which ingredients I wanted in my menemen and yet unbearably hungry, he brought before me an omelette containing a huge chunk of sucuk, a spicy Turkish sausage. Confused, miserable and somewhat angry, I looked up and quipped, »This is not what I ordered«. He coolly shook his head and said »Oh yes it is. It’s omelette with extra sucuk. Now eat it«! I was aghast! While I babbled quite ineffectively, he began chuckling and eventually broke into laughter. He gave me a friendly pat on the back and handed over the brass pan containing the correct order. In his broken English, he admitted that he enjoyed laughing with foreigners.

’Laughing at or laughing with’ I wondered as I watched him walk away. Towards the end of my second cup of freshly brewed tea, he was a few tables away, pulling someone else’s leg…

EMEK KAHVE, Daire Sokak No:17/1 Yeniköy, Istanbul

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Heavenly Smoothies In Istanbul

Istanbul / Comer
en por Adventureist /  Martin Selsoe, 1. may 2009



Some friends of mine have this habit of jogging the Belgrade forest and get all sweaty early on Sunday mornings.

I’m no particular early bird, so I save my efforts for the second leg of the ordeal: The brunch at Cuppa in the Cihangir district. While they go on about how great their exercise was, I get my self lost in the incredible list of fresh juices and smoothies.

Should I go for the ’S.O.S juice’ with apple, lemon, lettuce and orange or the ’Energizer juice’ with strawberry, banana and orange, or should I take two and also ask for the ’Vegi-rizer juice’ with beetroot, carrot, parsley, red pepper and spinach? It’s not an easy call, and then comes the choice of breakfast.

Here I tend to stick to the bread rolls with smoked salmon, poached eggs and sauce hollandaise, but the traditional Turkish egg dish, menemen, and the yoghurt with muesli are also extremely tempting.

Regulars to Cuppa bring their laptops and have the coffee last for hours while they shift their attention between their emails and the Radikal newspaper – a favourite reading with Turkey’s leftist and globalised intellectuals.

CUPPA, Yeni Yuva Sokak, 26/5, Cihangir, Istanbul

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A Curtain Of Plastic Lines From The Galata Bridge

Istanbul / Visitar
en por Adventureist /  Martin Selsoe, 4. ene 2009


Photo: Cgreb

Last Sunday, I felt like having fish at one of the restaurants under the Galata Bridge and strolled down the cobble stoned Yuksek Kaldirim onto the Karaköy pier. It was a crisp and beautiful afternoon and the sun shone gleefully on the turquoise waters of the Golden Horn. I love to stand just before the foot of the bridge to listen to the clink and rustle of thousands of reels released from atop the bridge by the weekend fishers of Galata.


Photo: Birasuegi

Fishing on the Galata bridge seem to be a men only affair, so Galata fishers, unlike their counterparts in Emirgan or Istinye who park their station wagons by the water, set up a barbeque and play cards while their rods rest against a fold up chair, reaffirm their fraternity by jigging their bait in perfect harmony.

The customers of the Galata bridge fish restaurants stare at the curtain of plastic lines wondering when the band of fishermen will applaud and jeer another successful catch. So, I sat down over beer and grilled fish in Galatea Restaurant and joined the group of ’watchers’.

Just as I had taken my first bite, the waiter who served me and his friend, with a mischievous grin, jerked down one of the lines hanging from the bridge. The line bounced off his hands and got tangled in someone else’s line. Instantly, from upstairs a man yelled. Both waiters broke into a cheeky giggle and the restaurant staff and managers joined in the rumble.


Photo: Urbanlegend

It was interesting to witness the two waiters’ fascination with the sea and the fraternal awe shared by all the frequenters of the Galata bridge; these men of whom many have come to Istanbul from remote parts of Turkey, where they have grown up without ever hearing the seagulls sing in tune to the ferryboats baritone horn. Once there, the dark, mystical bosom of the Bosphorus that is the Golden Horn has lured these men to its banks and bridges.

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A Bloody Good Feast

Istanbul / Visitar
en por Adventureist /  Martin Selsoe, 26. dic 2008


Photo: WhatCouldPossiblyGoWrong

Public holidays in Turkey are very much public events that won’t go unnoticed by visitors. The national holidays are celebrated with massive displays of Turkish flags from light posts and balconies as well as gigantic posters of Atatürk, the founding father, hanging from public buildings. On November 10th parts of the country come to a standstill shortly after nine am, when air sirens remind people of the exact time of his death. In that comparison the religious holidays are more festive. Not so because everybody takes the religion very serious, but because the holidays are an opportunity for both religious and laicist to gather the family and indulge in sweets and lavish meals.

Last year in November I was invited to a friends place to celebrate the Kurban Bayram – or feast of sacrifice - marking the culmination of the of Hajj. My bayram began early morning with a visit to a charming red, wooden mosque in the Üsküdar district for a short prayer. Although my friend and I aren’t Muslim, we were most welcome to join in and try to get the series of moves for the prayer right. I think it’s fair to say we almost blended in. The holiday continued at an uncle and aunts place were they had been preparing food for days. The women did most of the work, but given the unusual appearance of a man in the kitchen, uncle Metin received a lot more applause for his baklava dessert than any of the women.

After the meal, I set out to see what the holiday was all about, as on that day Muslims all over the world sacrifice an animal and share the meat with the poor. In Turkey the streets even in Istanbul used to be soaked in blood as fathers of every house hold slaughtered sheeps and goats on the pavement. But in recent years hygiene and animal welfare awareness has kept more and more from doing it at home. In stead municipalities now offer professional and clean slaughtering. Some organisations even offer to have the animal killed in African countries were the need is bigger than in modern Turkey. That service saved uncle Metin the hassle of butchering him self, as the family had decided to sacrifice a sheep in Niger instead of on the back yard. Later they received a dvd to show that a good deed had been done.

Turkish national holidays

April 23rd: National Sovereignty and Children's Day
May 19th: Atatürk Commemoration and Youth & Sports Day
August 30th: Victory Day
October 29th: Republic Day

The religious holidays follow the Islamic calendar and changes every year. In 2008 the Kurban Bayram celebration will be held from December 8 to December 11.

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Adventureist
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