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.  

Gaziantep Gone Wild

A Friday night in Gaziantep shows that you don't need alcohol to get on the dance floor;  just a pipe, some tea and good music!

Gaziantep Gastronomy: Kebap Crazy!

The fertile crescent is home to virile soil and vivacious rivers and from this beginning humanity has emerged.  Ancient cities abound in the area: Jericho, Jerusalem, Beirut, Aleppo, Amman and Alexandria; all testaments to the ages.  Humans have lived in these cities for thousands of years, so yes, they're old. But not as old as Antep!

Gaziantep - Antep -  is just north of the Syrian border with Turkey, in the country's far south-east ("Gazi," meaning war hero, was given to the city after its stoic defense against invading French troops).  It is one of the oldest continually inhabited cities in the world, with few rivals - nearby Damascus is contested to be the oldest.  Its lasting presence in the area is probably because it exists exactly where Mesopotamia ends and Anatolia begins.  It is in this frontier that Gaziantep has prospered, outlasting the transiency of the Egyptians, the Phoenicians, the Romans, the Byzantines, the Seljuks, The Ottomans, and quite hopefully, the current Syrian regime.

Aleppo, Syria.

It was to this regional stalwart we decided to go to wrap up our trip.  Part of the reason was that Gaziantep followed our imaginary line through the middle of Turkey - kind of - and the other part was that we had heard something about food and something about dessert.  Something about something delicious at least.  It took a six hour train from Konya to get to Adana, where the good food started, and onward from Adana it took another four hours before we swung into Gaziantep.

Adana Kebap.

Adana was a one day stop over on our trip, which gave us enough time to eat Adana kebap, twice.  It's that good.  Minced lamb mixed with spicy red pepper stuck on a kebap, served with hummus, yogurt, spicy tomato, onion, parsley, lemon and flat bread.  The kebap stole the show, though the Sabancı Merkez Camii, a colossal mosque holding up to 28000 people and the largest in Turkey, was just as impressive as it dominated Adana's skyline.

Adana's mosque is the biggest between Turkey and Saudi Arabia.

Hit one for four.  Woulda hit them all but the sight was off!

As the bus inched through Gaziantep's paralyzed traffic the following night, we were relieved to finally see the city's frantic bus terminal.  As we shouldered our packs, crowds danced and sang to the beat of a drum in the darkness of the terminal's lot.  It was a fitting introduction to a city full of energy and character, still holding onto the frontier of Anatolia.

We spent two days exploring the city, wading through fresh juice stands and baklava with two hands and an open mouth.  The city's cuisine is reported to be the best in Turkey and is quite unlike the typical fare of heavy meats and bread.  Instead, Gaziantep offered hundreds of dishes using things I've never tasted together before: walnut, pistachio, pomegranate, sour pomegranate molasses, yogurt, cucumber, tomato, zucchini and more.

Ali Nazik Kebap.

But the city gets its fame for one thing: pistachios.  Not just for the nut itself, which is sold by the kilo by vendors lining the city - but more so for pistachio baklava.  It's not hyperbole when I say proper pistachio baklava is the BEST DESSERT IN THE WORLD.  It's a phyllo layered pistachio sweet covered in a simple syrup but it is incredible.  I don't even like dessert but this thing is out of this world.  We went to the famed first shop in the city and the currently famous best spot in town and both were mind-blowing.

Pistachio baklava.

Workers frantically pack baklava boxes to ship
around the country.

In between handfuls of baklava we went to the recently opened Mosaic Museum in Gaziantep.  We arrived late and it had a steep entrance fee but man, those mosaics.  2000 year old mosaics laid out in full upon the walls or on the ground of the wide open museum space.  It housed one of the most beautiful examples of a Roman mosaic still surviving; the Gypsy Girl, a mosaic of a fleeting girl with an unknown background.  A copper bazaar rounded out the day as we squeezed through its narrow alleys, window shopping at beautiful carpets and metalwork that was way outside of our budget.

Tin and brass smith.

Handmade leather shoes for sale.

Making kitchen cookery.

Pounds and pounds of spicy pepper flakes.

As a very religious city, Gaziantep lacks any sort of bar or lounge scene.  Beer and wine can be bought, but we definitely didn't find anywhere that would serve it.  But that doesn't mean there isn't nightlife!  We spent Friday night in Gaziantep at an old cafe inside the copper bazaar.  As we walked in, we were greeted by the sounds of guitar, drum and a finger-picked bağlama and the smell of rolling nargile smoke (water pipe).  The cafe had a beautiful inner courtyard that was surrounded by small open shops, with craftsmen to carpet sellers pitching their wares.  In the courtyard, low lying tables, with rugs, pillows and blankets fronted towards a stage where a small band was bringing the house down with some Turkish folk classics. (We actually had to wait for a table to open up.  Unfortunately, we had to wait underneath the cafe in a converted cistern with catacomb-like rooms.  What shame.)  As we sat down, the crowd began to stir and before long, lines of dancers were stamping, singing and shouting along.  Video coming soon!

***Before including Gaziantep in our itinerary, we spent hours flip flopping and fact checking to make sure it was safe and the nearby situation in Syria hadn't spilled over the border.  Unfortunately, as a result of the conflict there are nearly 20 separate refugee camps lining the Turkish-Syrian border, but little indicators of the conflict in the city itself.  The only negative thing we heard from a local was that "rent prices had gone up."  The number of Syrian refugees outside of Syria - mostly in Lebanon, Turkey, Iraq and Jordan - just hit the 1 million mark and it was hard to fathom the immense suffering only an hour or two's drive away.