Kadikoy, My First Steps and Blister, Blisters, Blisters!

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Crossed my first 40 kms and reached Kadikoy, a southern neighborhood of the colossal city of Istanbul. With more than a hundred kilometer radius, the city is proving to be harder to exit than I originally thought. Tim and I set out from Taksim (the tourist center of Istanbul) on Monday evening after a tough day of running errands. Taksim is also the neighborhood in which I had stayed the few days leading to my departure. It is truly an amazing place – more exuberant than any place I have ever seen. Istiklal, Taksim’s main street, is a constant sea of people incomparable to anything I know. More bars, restaurants, and street vendors can be found there than in most small countries! Simply incredible! Ice-cream vendors in traditional garb lure passer-by with a display of their skills in mixing vats of cool sweetness and patrons are hailed friends by local kebap and restaurant proprietors. Friends are easy to make in TaksimJ The night life – one of such diversity, can only be compared to the likes of New York or Paris, for the city never sleeps and the crowds of thousands never seem to grow weary. Taksim is a place where you will never be alone. Street musicians, playing exotic instruments such as sheep-skin bagpipes, compete for the favor of the endless mass of tourists and shops containing all ponderable merchandise work late into the evening catering to the visitor’s every need. I won’t write more about Taksim except that it is one of the most unique destinations in this great world of ours and I am blessed to have experienced it, mostly thanks to Baris (Barish), a good friend of Tim’s who welcomed me into his home as only a Turk can. A cinematographer from Istanbul, Baris (whose name means peace in Turkish) was my first encounter with the Turks on this trip and I couldn’t have had a better person to communicate with. Thanks to him I realized the similarities between the Turkish culture and that of my own – Croatian, Herzegovinian. I discovered the difficulties young, open-minded Turks face in their surroundings and the struggle for acceptance of other cultures and national identities. I interviewed Bariş and will soon post the audio fıle as soon as I fıgure out how!!!
I will also remember Taksim for the hospitality shown to me by the employees of the World House Hostel, www.worldhouseistanbul.com -namely Cosgun, Guney and Mumin and I will never forget the great going away meal they prepared for us. Having visitors from all across the globe, these guys have a unique perspective on life and their kindness only confirms my belief in the universal goodness of people (an essential aspect of my trip). After saying farewell to them (they were among the first to take to Tim after his initial arrival in Istanbul), we took our first steps and headed north in search of a row boat to cross the majestic Bosphorus where Europe and Asia embrace. As I took my first step from the hostel, which I consider to be the beginning of my trip since this was the place where Tim stopped walking in Istanbul, a feeling crept over me – one which is hard to explain…I felt my own smallness and at the same time the greatness of the world. The words of the famous Herzegovinian writer, A.B. Simic, came to my mind, Be careful not to walk small under the stars. I felt that I was a mere speck on our planet, yet I felt at peace with this notion. I felt that I was at the beginning of a phase of personal growth and at the same time the world was about to become much smaller. It was pretty late in the evening when we headed out and after a couple of hours of walking we came to the first village (actually it was more like a tourist neighborhood along the river) and asked some people along the pier if we could rent a row boat. The men there looked at us as if we were crazy, which we probably areJ and told us that it was impossible to rent such a vessel. After a couple of hours of walking we decided to take a short nap on some benches along the Bosphorus and to try to find a boat in the morning. We tucked ourselves in our sleeping bags and after a long gaze at the stars I fell asleep. We awoke at the crack of dawn and continued walking north along the river as the sun rose painting the city pink. We walked for another two hours and crossed another 8 km, averaging 4km per hour. At this stage of the trip I was still pretty excited about everything and my mind raced with expectations, curiosity and a strong sense of being alive. We passed through many posh neighborhoods and repeatedly asked the locals if we could rent a row boat, with no luck. We tried to stop for cay (Turkish tea which is the common social drink, much like coffee in the West) but the prices were not appealing at all. We finally found a decent place with affordable tea thanks to a local merchant in a shop we stopped in. After explaining our intentions he let us know that it was illegal to cross the Bosphorus in a manually operated vessel due to the high traffic of cargo ships in the river. Again, this man’s hospitality was amazing. He personally took us to the tea house, introduced us to his group of friends, gave us a lot of information on how to cross the river and where to go next and did not even let us pay for our tea. At the mention of Bosnia and Herzegovina the men’s faces lighted up and a friendly atmosphere arose instantaneously. This was not the first time, nor the last that my Bosnian and Herzegovinian roots would make me friends! We kept going north and after a few more hours of walking I found myself in a trans-like state. We had walked for hours in silence listening to our own footsteps and occasionally glancing at the incredible view of the mighty river and grand city to our right - the spiritual aspect of my trip was beginning to take hold. The sun was bright that day and I was constantly soaked with sweat. My feet were beginning to get sore and the physical toll of the trip was also beginning to take hold. Before reaching the northern village of Yenikoy we took a lengthy nap on the pier and decided to cross the river there, row boat or no row boat. We found a small motorboat ferry and crossed, a little disappointed that we did not cross by rowing but still excited to be in Asia. After a meal there we started heading south again along the river – which was to our left this time. After a few more hours of walking in the sun we stopped in a park along the way, taking the opportunity to stretch our weary legs and allowing me to give the interview for the Croatian radio station, which you can check out at:http://www.radio.sbs.com.au/language.php?language=Croatian We took a nap there as well and kept heading for Kadikoy where Rezan, a friend of Baris’s lived. We reached Uskudar and my feet were pounding with pain. My feet were adjusting to the strain of long-distance walking and although I had wrapped my newly formed blisters with plenty of gauze and bandages, the pain was sharp. I started to realize what I had gotten myself into and the trip started to push me to my limits at an early stage. I was aware that my feet would blister and I am aware that it will take some time for them to get used to the abuse I am putting them through, but it’s not easy…no pain no gain! Baris took a ferry from Taksim and met us in Uskudar and I was barely able to stand at this point. We had crossed more than 35 km which was a pretty long distance for me although Tim was blister-free and in much better shape; yet he too was surprised to find himself quite tired. We had crossed a pretty lengthy distance on our first day and as we later realized, we probably overdid it. After a meal with Baris we decided to walk together towards Kadikoy, around 6 km away. The last few kilometers were by far the hardest. Each step was painful and my stride grew extremely slow. At times I was not sure I could make it but I managed somehow. Often thoughts of my grandfather crossed my mind. He too had walked an extraordinary distance yet the circumstances were quite different. He was a prisoner of war during WWII and he, like many Croatian prisoners, had to march to Bleiburg in Austria and then to Serbia where he had to work in a labor camp. Unlike me, he had no water or food and many of his comrades did not make it, including his brother who died of dehydration. Only now can I imagine what he must have gone through. I was doing my best to keep my body healthy, drinking lots of water and eating often. It is astonishing how much water I drank in the first few days and how hungry I would get. I started feeling like a professional athlete, realizing how important it was to take precise care of my body. We reached Kadikoy around midnight and I barely managed to enter Rezan’s place. I drank at least a liter of water, stretched my painful legs across his couch and went to sleep right away. The next day I could hardly walk at all and we decided to rest in Kadikoy for the next two days - which would be enough time for my blistered feet and sore muscles to heal. During these two days we rested, ate and slept. That was pretty much all we could do! In the evening Rezan and his roommate Metin returned and we got to know each other better. Rezan is quite a character. He is a director from the south-east of Turkey and he is Kurdish. His life was filled with hardships and his father was a political prisoner during the mid-80s as were many Kurds. Marginalized to an unbelievable degree the plight of the Kurdish minority in Turkey is shocking to most westerners yet a part of daily life for Rezan and Metin. Rezan arrived in Istanbul at the age of 9 with little knowledge of Turkish although he was forced to attend Turkish language school since Kurdish was, and still is, forbidden in any official form in the country. The Kurds are deterred from using their language in all aspects of life and are encouraged to denounce their heritage. This was all new to me and I found his story quite interesting. I also did an iınterview with Rezan but it was accidentally erased!!! Again the Kurdish curse strikes again!!! I will post a summary of our discussion as soon as I get the chance...patience people patience!!!

Rezan Yesilbas is a budding director and the author of Judgement (a short film, 2008) he is currently working as an assistant to the famous Turkish director Zeki Demirkubuz.
Some important films of the Turkish cinema include: Yilmaz Guney’s Yol, Suru and Umut; Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s Uzak (Distance); Zeki Demirkubuz’s Masumiyet; Reha Erdem’s Times and Winds; Yavuz Turgul’s Muhsin Bey and Fatih Akin’s Head On.
That’s all for now, I am off to Erenkoy. I’ll try to keep you posted as often as I can - please keep in mind that it’s not always easy for me to get internet access! Until next time, peace to all!!