Tarlabaşı Market & Other Photos

Tarlabaşı Market as dusk begins

On Sunday I ventured over to the Tarlabaşı Market, a mere 15 minute walk from my house. A blog focusing on the neighborhood can be found here, but in short Tarlabaşı is a mixed minority neighborhood that is under an urgent risk of government-influenced gentrification. I certainly plan on returning both to do my grocery shopping and to take more photos and meet more people.  The market itself, which is huge, offers a good cross-section of the neighborhood which is the most diverse place I've ever been in Turkey: a feature which makes me feel at home, approaching the diversity that I grew up with every day taking the subway in Brooklyn, NY. There's a surround-sound mix of Turkish and Kurdish conversation, bargaining, and hawking, accompanied by a wealth of African languages, Arabic, and the occasional smattering of English or German. The sellers all try to outdo each-other by calling out their wares, making animal noises, singing songs, or even breaking into a collective soccer hooligan-like hooting. Transexuals (of which Tarlabaşı has many) are buying henna and clothing alongside older conservative women. Many people were eager to engage in a conversation with me and have their photos taken, something that with a few exceptions I don't do without a conversation these days.

Most of the following photos are from the market, with a few exceptions...

Tarlabaşı Market, İstanbul 

Octopus. Eyüp, İstanbul.

Tarlabaşı Market, İstanbul 

Tarlabaşı Market, İstanbul  

Üsküdar, İstanbul

Tarlabaşı Market, İstanbul 

Tarlabaşı Market, İstanbul 

Üsküdar Ferry, İstanbul. 

Kosovar Man. Üsküdar, İstanbul. 

Tarlabaşı Market, İstanbul 

Tarlabaşı Market, İstanbul 

Tarlabaşı Market, İstanbul 

Tarlabaşı Market, İstanbul 

Looking Back: Riding the Balkan Express

I was going through old things that I was writing and found this account of my first train trip from Bulgaria to Turkey... Enjoy!

The Balkan Express

The Balkan Express in Edirne, Turkey.

“This is a drreeeam!” I heard a man shout while I was waiting for the train to arrive. My fellow traveler Ana and I had been joking with each other in our native tongue when the African-American Vietnam veteran from Queens ran up and hugged me. “This is a dream!” he repeated, “English! English! Get me out of this country!” Everyone on the platform was now staring at us, but the man didn’t seem to notice and continued madly talking about his desire to escape Bulgaria. Even if any of the onlookers had spoken English, they surely would still have had no idea what he was saying. He was, after all, completely incoherent, even to a native speaker of the language. His opening statement, however, proved to be prophetically accurate: we were indeed in a dream. The journey was surreal and sleepless. It exceeded my expectations of adventure. 

Taksim Photos

Dönerci. Taksim, İstanbul. 

Garaj. TomTom İstanbul

Kestaneci. Taksim, İstanbul. 

Santa Bey. Taksim, İstanbul

Simitci. Taksim, İstanbul. 

Hocaköy Kurban Bayramı: Photo Essay

Host Family 4 years later...

This week I returned to Hocaköy, to celebrate Kurban Bayramı, the Muslim holiday of sacrifice. I first spent some time in the small village near İnegöl in highschool while doing an exchange program through "EIL," a very positive experience for me that perhaps defined my relationship with Turkey today.  It was fun to return to the village, something that I have done several times since my first trip there.

Hocaköy Playground

The playground I built with my American peers is still standing, and it was exciting to see so many friends including my original host-family from the program.  I was lucky to meet an interesting and like-minded traveler at a couchsurfing meetup in İstanbul. Rahde Franke is traveling the world  on a grant from the Watson Fellowship studying open-fire cooking. His account of the day can be found here. I decided to invite him to come with me to Hocaköy for the holidays as I thought it might be rewarding for him as much of the holiday revolves around meat. . . I really enjoyed my first village bayram, and while it may have a bit tough to bear the sights, smells, and most of all sounds associated with the sacrifice of the two cows that I witnessed, I thought it was an important experience. We so often forget where our food comes from, and it was actually quite nice to see the whole process through personally. Between two hours, I saw a walking cow and then had food in my mouth.  Without further ado, here are some photos of Bayram in Hocaköy, other photos I took in the village that are unrelated to the holiday can be found here.

(There are some rather bloody and graphic photos below, You've been warned.) A very graphic video of the event can be seen here.

3 men begin to wrestle the cow to the ground.

The cow's last minutes as a knife is sharpened

Sisters and mother watch from above.

Preparing for the slaughter.

Alim watches the slaughter

Alim watches the slaughter

Cleaning up

Burak skins as his mother watches proudly

Salting the pelt

Gutting

Post-sacrificial meat stored in an attic

A truck of disposed cowheads

Butchering

Butcher

Returning to Hocaköy: Fall Photos

Oynat, Turkey

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey

Mamara Ferry. Yalova, Turkey. 

A tractor illuminated at night. Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Suat. İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey. 

Hocaköy, İnegöl, Turkey.