Room for rent
Sign posted in an Istanbul apartment building window, somewhere down Çakmakcilar Yokusu. (Illiterate, Turkish bad-girls need not apply.)
Sign posted in an Istanbul apartment building window, somewhere down Çakmakcilar Yokusu. (Illiterate, Turkish bad-girls need not apply.)
Amidst the liquor store receipts and once-inspirational fortune cookie fortunes bloating my wallet, I still carry, brittle and crumpled, the note this woman gave me, detailing her address and cell phone number. Even after discussing the matter all morning (there isn’t much to do on Turkish trains), she couldn’t understand why I’d rather press on [...]
One thing that always struck me about Turkey, besides its boundless striking contrasts, was its profusion of things capable of inspiring intense love-hate relationships. In Turkey, I often felt as though my previously held notions of “good” and “bad” had been rendered obsolete. All of a sudden, I was drinking Coca Cola like there was [...]