On the Other Side: Kadıköy

Walking down into the lobby of my apartment, you would be excused for thinking that the place is a dump.  Electricity, gas and water bills coil on the ground and scatter around the floor every time the rusty metal front door swings open.  Stepping out onto the tiny stoop at least a half a dozen stray cats will be in view, most lounging on top of the hoods of cars for the comfort of residual heat.   Garbage sometimes litters the steps and feral mutts sometimes run amok.  But gazing down the hill through the frame of the narrow street, you can see the blue Bosphorus sparkling, ferry boats passing and seagulls swirling.  And to the right, a solitary tree in the middle of the narrow street.

Kadıköy is a lot like my apartment stoop.  If you carefully look around, it might not be so pleasant.  However, if you take in the whole rather than its parts, a striking and vibrant community appears.  This community starts to show at the bottom of my street. About a 200 meter walk down the sloped street I live on, lies Rıhtım Caddesi. Rıhtım is the busiest street in Kadıköy and it runs parallel to the water and the ferry terminals.  Pharmacies, eye clinics, restaurants, sandwich stands, booking offices and much more line my left as I walk, and the frenetic four lane Rıhtım Caddesi is on my right, buffering between me and a view of the sea just 100 meters away.  The noise can be overwhelming and the aromas - both pleasant and putrid - can be overpowering.   Despite this, I wouldn't choose to live anywhere else.  

Though Rıhtım is the main vein, the commotion of the nearby ferry terminals is the beating heart of Kadıköy.  The terminals define Kadıköy; an entrance to the Asian side of Istanbul.  Running every 20 minutes or so, they take commuters back and forth between continents.  It's not just the boats that make the bustle; around the terminals, you can get simit from wheeled carts (sesame seed bagel-like bread) or grab a bite from "büfe" stands selling everything from coffee and tea to doner wraps and freshly squeezed orange juice.  Solitary men hawk trinkets and toys, counterfeit scarves or clothing, their offerings splayed out on the pavement near the water.  Shoe-shine men stand calling out to people passing and lottery ticket hawkers bellow out the latest jackpot.  These characters are always in their setting.  

A rainy day the ferry terminal.

Waiting for the ferry, looking across the water.

All this clamor and commotion is not new.  Kadıköy actually bears the distinction of being older than Istanbul, with relics as old 5500 b.c.e. being discovered in the area.  Not only that, but Persians, Bithynians, Romans, Byzantines, Arabs, Crusaders and the famous Ottomans all held Kadıköy at one time.  Of course, little material evidence of this remains but its history is reflected in the buildings scattered around the district.  Hidden synagogues and barbed wire churches still stand while vibrant mosques ring the call to prayer.  

I hear the call to prayer every morning from here.

My favourite part of Kadıköy is a 10 or 15 minute walk from my apartment.  If I'm lucky on the walk, the trumpeter in a cheap suit (who looks like he stumbled out of Tom Waits album) will be near the corner, playing for passerby's.  If not, maybe I'll pass a busker or a puppeteer.  Moda is a bohemian and gentrified area, with panoramic sea views, luxury apartments, but most importantly, good food.  Nearby, there are vibrant markets selling all sorts of fresh food, displayed and within reach.  It's also got the best range of international food and grocers, as well as great shops and the infamous Kadife Sokak - "Bar Street."  We spend too many of our weekend nights on Bar Street, as do hundreds of other people imbibing inside the ten or so bars that line the street.

On that walk to Bar Street, I'm never quite sure what I could see or what could be waiting.  Marionettes dancing, rabbits predicting fortunes, stray dogs sleeping on a forgotten armchair, mimes play acting or a guy with a french horn dressed up like Santa Claus.  I've seen drummers, guys with guitars, people playing accordions, one man bands, two man bands, three man bands... 

  

But Kadıköy is not all a bed of roses.  Burned out buildings cordoned off by shining sheet metal stick out between centuries old buildings.  Children, often late at night, beg for money or play the recorder for spare change.  Invalids sit on the sidewalks hoping for a few coins.  Old women and men, at an age when they should be at home in an armchair, sell packets of tissues for a few kurush and gangs of alleged "glue sniffers" - though I've never seen them - roam about.  It is a place where the realities of life are starkly presented.

Kadıköy has become known as one of the more liberal and progressive areas in the city.  Vibrant protests and rallies often occur, with Turks gesticulating for anything from women's rights to Islamist political parties.  Just last year, part of the area was trashed when the local football club Fenerbahce lost the league to their bitter rivals.  Just last month, we saw a protest and rally that must have been over 10 000 strong.  I would have never dreamed of seeing something like that in Singapore, a place where walking on grass in a park would turn heads.  

Reaching Kadıköy after a day at school, I surface from the subway to bleating horns, grating traffic and stray dogs.  But then I see the sea and the ferries and as I walk along the Bosphorus, I think to myself that I wouldn't live anywhere else in the city.  If I'm early and the sun isn't down, the minarets of the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia can be seen dotting the horizon on the other side of the city.  And if I get lucky, the sun is just going down behind the two, giving me a memory of beauty I won't soon forget.