Letter from Istanbul. Sara Nasser, Roads & Kingdoms
02.01.2017 | To some, I’ve described Istanbul as a drop-dead gorgeous girl who turns out to be insane. It’s hard to leave a place you’re attached to, especially a city like Istanbul. You’re alive in a way that’s hard to find anywhere else. You meet people you can’t meet at home. It scares you, threatens you, challenges you, and seduces you. You wonder if your love affair is doomed. It’s like all your friends are begging you to peel away, to break up for your own sanity. But you resist. It’s hard to say goodbye to the physical pleasures of a city by the water, teeming with people and commerce and cats. It’s like the Besiktas slogan: hayat sokakta var, life is on the street.
An American Expatriate on Why She’s Not Leaving Istanbul. Suzy Hansen, Vogue
04.01.2017 | Many of us from the U.S. grew up believing security was our birthright. When that is threatened, our impulse is to withdraw or lash out. In Turkey I learned that the future will never be predictable and that mutual dependence in daily life is the truest form of safety. When I am confused about whether to leave Istanbul, I think about those tight-knit Ottoman neighborhoods and take my cue from the Turks, many of whom would never abandon the communities they have created, and who, like most of the world, don’t even have the extraordinary privilege of leaving.
Nonostante tutto. Scoprire Istanbul
Ricominceremo a scrivere di questa città perché è quello che sappiamo fare. Perché prima di diventare il nostro lavoro è stata la nostra passione. Perché nonostante tutto la città continua a vivere e noi viviamo con lei. Perché qui vivono 16 milioni di persone, vivono i nostri amici, e fra le altre vive anche una bellissima comunità di circa tremila italiani. Perché anche se schiacciata dal dolore questa città conserva ancora la sua bellezza unica. Ed è questa bellezza che ci tiene attaccati a lei.
Under A Blanket Of Snow, Terror-Stricken Istanbul Finally Breathes. Kaya Genç, The Worldpost
11.01.2017 | And then, snow began. In Cihangir, the city’s hipster heart, exchange students watched from their windows the whiteness that seemed intent on taking control of the streets. There was something rebellious and sublime about it ― the snowstorm was more powerful than any political organization. It was also alarming, since the decrease in temperatures were so swift that reaching home became the Homeric goal of Istanbul locals. Once indoors, they would see what waited in store for Istanbul and decide on what they would do about it.
Flexibility and Frustration: Navigating Life Through Istanbul. Paul Osterlund, Catapult
12.10.2017 | I can’t help but think that perhaps it was all a function of my neurosis. The madness and chaos of Istanbul often presented real, valid problems that acted as welcome distractions from the largely fictional problems created by my own anxiety and obsessive-compulsive nature. Hurdling beyond these obstacles—whether bureaucratic or less banal—via creative means and determination was healthier and more productive than living somewhere calm and orderly with plenty of living space for my own demons to flourish.