Becoming comfortable in a new place is as unpredictable as making a new friend. That thought comes to mind as I try to sort out why Istanbul quickly struck me as a much more accessible venue than any of the Indian cities we visited. That defies my expectations that the use of English in India would make entry easy and that Turkish-speaking largely Muslim Istanbul would be a bit more problematic. I was totally wrong.
Part of the issue is geography. In each Indian city we visited, I found it very hard to fit my neighborhood into the larger whole. Randomly-placed big buildings made it hard to fit things into the big picture. There are big buildings in Istanbul also, but it seems that you can always see great distances, which means you can often relate where you are to the Bosphorus. In a basic way you can fit the parts into the whole.
Istanbul somehow feels more familiar. All the streets are paved. There are few beggars, no meandering cows and no tuk-tuks (the three-wheelers based on motorcycles) or bicycle rickshaws. The fact that folks drive on the right here adds to the comfort level, making things safer for pedestrians like us. Sitting in a café with fewer than two dozen seats as the apparent owner squeezed me a pomegranate juice (total check, two sandwiches and juices, under $12) simultaneously felt comfortable and a bit decadent.
And part of the issue is attitude. Despite the basic friendliness of the few Indians we managed to forge a modest relationship with (Leslie’s physician, for instance), there seems to be a warmth here. Waiters kid with you even when they cannot understand any of your language and you resort to picking pastries from a counter display. In neither country do you get the impression that they want to become Americans or wish that many more Americans would visit. But here in Turkey, you get the feeling that there’s a welcoming community. In India, there’s a certain formality that may be another legacy of the Brits.
No comments:
Post a Comment