He came out of nowhere. K and I were standing against the railings of the Galata Bridge in Istanbul, watching the sea gulls dance over the murky waters of Bosporus when a balding man materialized next to us. He was wearing a blue wind cheater and bobbing up and down excitedly.
“You hungry? You come inside my restaurant,” he said and pointed to one of the restaurants on the bridge. “I will make fifteen percent discount. Anything you want.”
He pulled out laminated menus from inside his jacket and thrust them in our hands. I glanced through unappetizing photos of broiled meat and shook my head.
“No, thank you.” I said. We had just stuffed ourselves with freshly caught balik, cooked right in front of our eyes, at one of the many fish vendors that lined the dock at Karakoy
Freshly grilled fish at the stalls at Karakoy
The man plonked himself on the railing near us, as if to make himself comfortable for a long conversation. His face was tanned and unshaven. He had tried to cover his bald spot with a few strands of hair smoothed across his head. His eyes were friendly with deep crinkles, the eyes of a man who laughed often.
“You from India, yes? Shah Rukh Khan?” he asked, referring to the Indian movie star. Shah Rukh Khan was clearly big in Turkey – this was not the first time people had greeted us this way
“Yes, but we now live in the US. We are just stopping over in Istanbul before we head back to US,” K said. He raised his voice to be heard over the irate honking of a ferry that was trying to find anchoring space at the crowded harbour.
“I love India. I used to work at the docks in Mumbai. Sassoon dock was the name – with always the smell of dead fish!” the man said.
“Oh! I used to live in that area!” I said. “Imagine that! So, are you from Istanbul?”
“No! No! I am here for work. I am from Anatolia – you heard the name, yes?” he asked. “You married? He nodded toward me and asked K, “Wife? Only one?”
K looked confused, “Err…Yes. Why? How many do you have?”
“Oh, I have four. And no children? Why no children?” he asked
I ignored the question not wanting to divulge such personal details to a stranger whose name I did not know.
“Oh you must have babies,” the man said. “They make you very happy. I have 70 children!”
I laughed, “No you don’t!”
“Why do you laugh? I am very serious.”
“Name them!” K challenged him
“OK. I tell you. Ali, Aslan, Selin, Ahmet…,” the man paused and looked at us for approval. “…Kerim, Mahmut, Ferah…” he paused again. “See? I know the names. You believe me now, eh?”
“That’s not even 10 names,” I teased.
He threw his hands in the air in mock resignation and laughed. His laugh was short, throaty and honest.
The sun, a globe of bright red, hovered just over the spires of the minarets of the city. The dock was noisier than before, the ferries getting ready for the night cruises.
“So, does your family live with you here in Istanbul?” I said.
“No, it is too expensive. I work and send them money. No jobs in Anatolia so I have to live away from them. I go home …once or twice a year.”
“Do you like it here?”
The man shook his head and sighed.
“Istanbul is so dirty, crowded. Too noisy. Everyone is running after money. Men and women just shop all day, they just want to look pretty. It’s all fake. There is no love here. People marry for money. It’s just about money.”
He was watching the river and his voice seemed to come from a faraway place.
“Anatolia is so different. You must visit if you come to Turkey again. People are much nicer. They will invite you in to their homes. The rivers are clear. Ah! And such cool water! And olive trees everywhere. Such fresh air, and the fruit – the tastiest in the whole of Turkey! It’s so beautiful there…”
The sun had set and darkness was falling on the city. We stood on the bridge quietly, the chilly Bosporus breeze hitting our faces.
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“You must go to Anatolia,” he repeated softly to himself, looking wistfully at the gentle waves of the river.
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[…] Travel Tip: On the Karakoy side, sample balik from the fish markets by the docks. Freshly caught grilled fish is served between slices of delicious bread and makes a great snack. Many restaurants also line bridge if you want to sit down for a longer meal – it is here where we had an amusing encounter with a restaurant worker. […]