Istanbul: Interlude: Love and Technology
Trip Start
Feb 08, 2008
1
41
125
Trip End
Sep 11, 2009
Istanbul,
Turkey
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Now, I am no Lothario. But I am past middle age, and I have been around a bit. And here is something I have discovered. A woman aroused, shall I say, there is a wondrous change in the aroma of her breath. It is one that I have found intoxicating. . . . indeed, highly stimulating. It is as an erotic amobrosia, a thrilling, enhancing aphrodisiac.
But, who would know? Is this a discovery of mine alone? Are other men foolish to know? Are the women who smoke, and thus conceal such a stimulating natural enhancement to coitus, aware of the wonders that they deny by destroying it with the disgusting odors of nicotine-encrusted lungs? And so, if they are dumb enough to smoke, I assume they are foolish enough to have partners who have no mind for the lost, sweet, exciteable breaths of their lovers.
As for me, I say, Breath into my face!
[Update 14 August 2008: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/14/fashion/14SKIN.html]
Turkey is making great technological strides. In my travels these past weeks I have begun to take note that every bathroom sink in every hotel has the same six-holed, staneless steel drain plate. And every one, a rusty screw in the center.
But in Istanbul, I was given the "new" room recently added. The screw in the center of the drain plate was brass.
And, speaking of smoking. In the restaurant of the above-noted incident--one of those lining the base of Istanbul's Beyoglu Bridge--I saw a Turkish family having dinner, sitting by one of the open windows looking out onto the Bosphorus. The father and mother were both smoking cigarettes, blowing the smoke into each other's face. Their daughter, a girl of perhaps age 7 to 10 was flailing her hands to wisk away the smoke from her own face.
Upon leaving, I decided to chance intrude myself into their lives. (Again, perhaps the two beers emboldened me).
As I passed the little girl from behind I tapped her on the shoulder. She turned her face to me with a startled look as I leaned down and softly said what I hoped was the Turkish command form, İçmiyor! (Don't smoke!)
Out the door I had to turn about and walk past them on my way. I saw the girl looking at me. I gave her the "thumbs-up" sign. I thought I saw her smile. And at the corner of my eye I thought I saw her father nod aprovingly.
Well, with that I nearly end my day in Istanbul. This was a business day. I began by confirming a bus departure at 8 am tomorrow for Salonika, Greece (or Thessalonika). Next it was to locate the Apple Computer retailer and service to determine the damage to my laptop as a result of a power surge (while plugged in) in Van, far eastern Turkey. The screen had gone black, and I was unable to restart the machine. I feared it was fried. And so I had left it in its comotose state these past several days.
After checking on the bus schedule, I went off in search of a retailer of Macintosh products. There was a promising one in the area known as Şişli. Walking to it from Taksim, I coincidenily, without forethought, came upon the house that Atatürk occupied on the eve of his departure for Samsun, from which I had just arrived the day before. It was the house in which he laid plans for the revolution to overthrow the Ottoman rule and lead to the establishment of the modern Turkish republic. I made a tour, viewing personal effects of the Gazi, and seeing previously unseen photographs.
I found the Apple retailer, and was directed three blocks to the service center. After visiting there and confirming the location and ability to service my computer, I traipsed all the way back to Sultanhamet to shag my machine--having not wanted to schlep it around in my searching mode.
Back at the shop, the fellow plugged it in and turned it on! End of story. (It was like when you take your car in for a repair, and look like a twit when the service guy can't find what's been plaguing you . . . .)
