LETTER FROM ISTANBUL: Lamplight | Lost Coast Outpost | Humboldt County

July 26, 2015 - table lamp

It’s not any day someone offers to buy we something for your home – generally your trainer – and as newlyweds, we unequivocally didn’t wish to skip a opportunity. My director, wanting to get us a marriage gift, had insisted Özge and we could collect out something we wanted, and let her know so that she would go and buy it. We motionless on a flare for a flat.

My wife, Özge, met me in Kadıköy after she finished work. It was early evening, and many of a shops were still open. The cafes and bars were already starting to get busy. We stopped during a initial seat emporium we saw, peered in a windows. There were beds, sofas, chairs, though not many in a approach of abajurlar.

We did mark a sole candidate, with a plain white shade, crouched modestly behind some sanctioned candles. But a proprietor, an aged male sitting outward carrying a crater of tea, pronounced it was not for sale.

“Do we remember that one shop?” Özge asked, behind out on a bustling street. We’d seen a indication we favourite several nights before, on arrangement in a window of some shop, returning from a travel in Moda, though of march now we couldn’t remember accurately where this sold emporium was.

“I’m starving!” Özge said, despondency and craving unexpected holding reason during once. She walked languidly, her shoulders slumping. She had been operative all day, after all. we suggested we squeeze something to eat. Nearby was a Subway, and so we went and systematic tuna sandwiches, chocolate chip cookies and prohibited tea. Afterward, fortified, we were prepared again for a business of a lamp-hunting.

“There it is!” Özge cried suddenly, indicating down a street. It was a emporium we’d been racking a smarts over. we done a note of a emporium name: Karizma Home. Right there in a window was a lamp. Price: 450 liras (about 200 dollars). The owners famous us, and pronounced good evening.

“Are we certain that’s a one?” we asked Özge, for she had upheld by it with usually a discerning glance, and continued on by a shop. There were lamps of all shapes and sizes; medium lamps, outlandish lamps; long, bony lamps; short, fat lamps; wearied lamps, smart-alecky lamps.

“I usually wish to see what else they have,” she said. “What do we consider of this blue one?” Özge forked it out. It was identical to a initial one, a one on arrangement in a window. Both had a kind of dim coronet frame, old-school design. They looked like mini gas lamps, that matched a retro taste. The disproportion was that a second one was a cold blue colour, instead of white. We could put it possibly in a vital room, or in a bed room. It could be transported, behind and forth, according to a dictates. we graphic some secluded night in January, when a streets of a city are lonesome in snow, while a dual of us lay cosy in bed, and underneath that accessible lamplight, reading some Tanpınar or Kundera.

The blue flare also cost about 450 lira. There were some cheaper ones, though they looked it, tiny and lacking in many ways.

“What should we do?” we asked, saying a dilemma. “Should we call my director?”

“Good idea,” Özge said.

My executive seemed astounded during me job during that hour. “I usually wanted to know what kind of check we were looking at,” we said.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said. “As prolonged as it’s not, like, a thousand lira or something.”

“OK,” we said. “The one we like is 450.”

I could hear a executive sucking in her breath. “Well, I’m not certain I’ll be means to get that many collected from a teachers …”

We had to have this lamp.

“Özge and we can make adult a difference,” we offered.

“No! No!” my executive protested. “Just get what we want. We’ll find some approach to arrange it out. Just take a print of it on your phone, and make certain to get a label for a store, and afterwards I’ll go and collect it up.”

Özge surmised many of this, and by a time we rang off was already gnawing photos from several angles on her Samsung. We took a label from a store owner, thanked him and headed out. We felt like – not bad for a Tuesday.

“The blue flare is nice,” my mom said, conjuring adult a cerulean attract as we walked. “Can we suppose – blue light in a room?”

“It would be nice, relaxing,” we concurred.

Seven o’clock. We walked down a travel toward a fish markets, a bustling cafes, bars and restaurants. As always, we felt good walking, a rhythms, colors and kinetic vibe of Istanbul all around. Even a vendurous glooms, a rickety areas, with their shadows and surprises, invited we to stay out a bit longer.

We couldn’t resist. Feeling these things, along with a flare triumph, Özge suggested we stop for a drink. We found an open list during a café that offering a plain perspective of a travel we liked, where cold ivy hangs like a canopy over a intersections of a slight streets.

The garcon brought us dual pints of Bomonte, and we enjoyed examination a people pass, and looking adult during a pleasing aged unit buildings above a shops. Most of them had balconies with lots of immature plants and flowers. The cultured reminded me a small of New Orleans, and while we drank we talked a small bit of a French Quarter, and a slight streets and fern unresolved from a balconies.

A black cat nestled adult to Özge’s leg, and she played with it for a while. The cat had a collar around a neck, so we ostensible it lived in one of a places nearby. For a thousandth time, we illusory vital somewhere like here, in a core of Kadıköy, where a possess cat, Ginger, would be means to ramble around freely, fighting with other cats, roaming during bits from a fish market.

We systematic another beer, and talked for awhile about a outing to America we were formulation for Christmas. We were to spend a few days in New York, afterwards revisit my family in Pittsburgh.

“My mom texted currently wanting to know what colours they should have for a party,” we said.

“They always have a celebration during Christmas, right?” Özge asked. “Just tell them to do whatever they routinely do.”
We were both burnt out from a marriage and reception, and unequivocally weren’t in a mood for another marriage bash. But we also reasoned that Dec was a prolonged approach off, and that we competence feel differently by then. Plus, my mom had never had a possibility to classify a wedding…

Our speak was interrupted by a mainstay of policemen. They strode past, strongly and with purpose. They all carried demonstration shields and batons. They upheld in twos, their faces frozen, their stairs complicated and in unison. They marched past and past.

Everyone looked adult from their drinks, their conversations, their dinner. We watched tensely, knowingly.

“Are they going down to a iskele?” we asked.

“Probably,” Özge said. There seemed to be during slightest twenty or thirty. More would be entrance from other directions. The ones we saw finished filing past. They marched on past a fish markets. Bewildered tourists stared for a moment, and got out of their way. The mainstay dull a dilemma and disappeared.

“Is it about Suruç?” we asked.

“Yes, probably,” my mom said.

In Suruç there had been a self-murder explosve explosion, murdering during slightest 30 and wounding another 100. The people were all mostly tyro activitists who had collected to classify assistance for Kobane, usually over a limit in Syria. ISIL and a Kurds have been battling for control of a town, a region, for months.

As many had expected, there were demonstrations entertainment down nearby a waterfront, here on a Asian side. Over on a European side, there competence be demonstrations in Taksim. They would many expected be anguish a victims in Suruç, criticizing a Turkish supervision for a policies per Syria and a ISIL threat.

We listened a warbling roar, and looked up. High above, helicopters were passing, a Doppler ripple, removing louder, softer, louder again. They seemed to be circling. we looked adult again, though saw usually a few birds, flitting between a buildings. You could usually hear a helicopters from where we were sitting, we couldn’t see them since of a rooftops. The birds were like a kind of resounding watermark, shadows of their larger, automatic cousins.

We paid a bill, afterwards walked by a streets, down toward a categorical entrance that looked out during a waterfront. There was lots of trade as always, people criss-crossing. The object was going down so that we had to squint, though all we saw were a crowds, a cars and buses gleaming, while high above a helicopter sounds buzzed in your ears. It all went by in hostile, unreal silhouette.

But as we squinted in a twilight, we couldn’t see any sold demonstrations. Nothing seemed to be function – yet.

We motionless to equivocate any hassles down there, and instead took some behind streets that we knew that went divided from a waterfront. It was my aged neighborhood.

Holding hands, my mom and we crossed a categorical avenue, staying tighten to any other. We walked by some behind streets we knew. It was my aged area and it felt good to be behind here, divided from what was function down nearby a waterfront, and a other places.

We went uphill, where a streets were even quieter, and we were shortly in Yeldeğirmeni. The area was alive with activity, people sitting outward in a twilight, carrying tea and coffee. It was reassuring, calm, to be divided from a waterfront and to hear a helicopters usually in a distance.

We stopped by my aged internal market, that is run by dual Kurdish brothers. we pronounced hello to one of them, Bulent, who was sitting outward underneath a tree subsequent to a market. we introduced him to my wife, Özge. They chatted for a impulse about what we had seen and listened down nearby a waterfront.

Bulent seemed dissapoint by a bombing in Suruç. “The Western leaders don’t seem to caring that many about it,” he told Özge. “They don’t seem to be profitable that many attention.”

We wished Bulent good evening, and kept walking until we got all a approach down a mountain to a other side of bustling thoroughfare, divided from a waterfront. We got a cab and headed home. It felt good to be removing off a streets, and streamer home.

###

James Tressler, a former Eureka resident, is a author who believes that a Lost Coast is a state of mind and soul. He lives with his mom and cat in Istanbul.

source ⦿ http://lostcoastoutpost.com/2015/jul/26/letter-istanbul-lamplight/

More lamp ...

› tags: table lamp /