Freedom

And as I started thinking of a reason as to why I've been pushing back writing this entry, the reason becomes obvious: the subject itself makes it more than just an entry. If Beyoglu is the heart of Istanbul then Istiklal is its carotid: were it one day to fail, the heart and the body will also stop. Fortunately, that chance is far from ever becoming reality....
Istiklal is a mini mirror of Istanbul. In its streets you´ll find anything and everything Istanbul has to offer. Not only embassies, hotels, bars, discos, restaurants and clothing and souvenir shops but also family homes, student flats, executive flats, hostels, shoe makers, bag makers, tailors... the list can go on and on. There isn´t one time of the day in which Istiklal is empty. Maybe (just maybe) Tuesday at 6 am. maybe....

The crowd is an ocean in which all of us are but drops following the current. Try to go from one side of the street to the other one on a Saturday afternoon. Try and fight that current. It´ll be for certain the longest crossing you've ever made, as it will also be 15 minutes of pure excitement :)

It is rumored that Istanbul has 18 million people and that on a Friday night, at least 8 of them are somewhere in Beyoglu :)


I overheard a tourist yesterday making a comment to her loved one: "let´s be careful, look at all these people! there must be a demonstration or something!" I couldn´t help myself: "nah, Istiklal is like this, everyday. Hurry up and enjoy the view before it gets too crowded"....

And I say "enjoy it" because Istiklal is more than a meeting point: It´s a treat to the eye. Beautiful buildings adorned each flank and in between them, long gorgeous alleys take you from the central vein to its affluents.. whenever you come, take the time and look up :)

But it's my opinion, the beauty of Istiklal comes from it being a place that is alive:
6 o'clock in the morning marks the time for some people to start heading to work: shirt, shoes, and tie in hand, they make their way through the almost empty street, on their way crossing yet another group of people who are just coming into the street: jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers, getting ready to open their shops.

But to this crowd of comers and goers we must add our special characters who complete our Istiklal: our simitci; the dialy brakfast is never complete without this sesame round bread delicacy. Either pushing his red cart or balancing a big tray on his head, our simitcis stay busy all throught out the morning, even mid afternoon when another character comes in to replace him:the castagne guy. A strong perfum fills the air as he makes his way through our Istiklal.

And from midday on, a non-stop chain of characters will fill up our street: our mısır (corn) guy,the dondurma (ice cream) guy and our most lovable and cherisehed character after long dancing nights: our midye (mussels) guy.....















Funny how almost all of Istanbul can be experienced in just a few kilometers....

And because life in Turkey is about music, streets musicians are never absent in this our street.......

maybe a little show as well....

a few clowns advertising a new shop, some acrobats boucing around for an upcoming festival, a few protesters raising their voice, a few more thousand protesters making sure their cause is not forgotten.....

Anything that needs to be remembered, needs to pass by Istiklal....

and so I also passed....

niños y adioses

The end of year show rehearsal today and while looking around, trying to give last minute instructions and trying to figure out who needs to go to the toilet, I can't help it but my eyes start watering....
Some people think because I continuously say good bye I've gotten used to it and that somehow it has become easier. I have gotten used to it but it isn't any easier. Maybe a bit easier as I try to think of "so long"s  and not a "good bye"s but this year is different. I've come to a fence where that making that distinction is no longer valid: saying good bye to my children, my dear fasulye.

In this first year that I've worked entirely with children I've learnt more than just a career or a path to be followed. I've learnt, a bit, how beautiful it is to be a child. How pure they can be, how much true love they can give, how clean their world is. And I say a bit since I've learnt to love them. They loved me from the first day. That is beautiful. They love you just because; there isn't a reason why not to do it: you are a person, you are in front of them, they love you....

but I dwell....

The smiles shared every morning, the yells of happiness heard every time they felt like it, the tight hugs they gave us whenever they had a problem, the awe whenever we showed them something new, the satisfaction they showed when they know they've learnt something, their getting comfortable on your lap as someone read them a story, their pride because they can pee standing up now or because they can put on their shoes on, Elif Naz' never ending stories, Demir's animal sounds, Leyla's giggles, Dora's wondering eye, Zeynep's songs, Ulas Ali's hair bouncing as he runs, Lorin's theatrical acts, Selim's cuteness, and on and on and on.. they are all soon to be gone, gone as I wonder: how much do we remember from when we were three?  

is everything forgotten? ... will I be forgotten too?
maybe, but what I've gotten from them is for me and you to share... for a long while to come......

I take so much from them, but what I really want, is that zeal to live this minute, this one now not the next one coming right up,  to the fullest: to run as fast I can, to laugh like a maniac for the smallest of things and cry a river the next instant, to be amazed at a bug, to rejoice at every sound my body can make...

A Hakuna Matata kindergarten style :)