ISTANBUL STREET TRAFFIC DEFENSE

A city continuously built upon itself for the last two thousand years leaves little room for traffic management. The Istanbul motor vehicle pedestrian relationship is tenuous at best.
Sidewalks, if they exist at all, are just as likely to be parked on as walked on.

During peak hours, they in fact turn into auxiliary passing lanes. Woe be the unsuspecting pedestrian who doesn’t give ample space to the motorcycle deliveryman careening towards him along the cobble stone walkway.

A Turkish friend kindly provided the following Turkish Diving Educational Theory:
Green light means GO.
Yellow Light means GO QUICKLY.
Red Light means GO CAREFULLY.

Life on foot in the urban, historic jungle of Istanbul is full on. Add inclement weather into the mix and walking from Point A to Point B becomes an Olympic Event.
Most people carry umbrellas not just to avoid the rain but for personal protection against the splash of passing cars.

With puddles deep and sordid and cars racing along with seeming abandon an untimely misstep too close to the curb can leave one drenched and dejected. Wielding your umbrella like a highly trained martial artist, one must zig zag through the street, calculating the distance and velocity of on coming cars and time to impact with the nearest puddle. At the precise moment where car tire hits puddle and puddle discharges its filthy watery city mire, one most whip their umbrella down from overhead to shield the lower half of the body from imminent deluge.

One can imagine, it Is a very quick but unfortunately experiential learning curve

One foot in front of the other, with umbrella in hand, parry – counter parry, Istanbul pedestrian life marches on.

HIT THEM WHERE IT COUNTS

Walking home late one night from class. A women steps out of the pharmacy.
She has a baby in one hand and a can of Coca Cola and 2 packs of cigarettes in the other.
My only thought was whether she needed a prescription for that or not.
One of the Istanbul Soccer Teams (Galatasary) is building a new soccer stadium. Over the past few weeks the construction workers have been up in arms because their pay has been in arrears. When a threatened strike didn’t persuade the owned to cough of up the cash, they made their final ultimatum: If we don’t get paid we will hangs flags and banners of Arch Rival soccer team Fenerbache all over the stadium.
Money swiftly changed hands.

CHICKEN OR BEEF

To its credit and the delight of all hungry passengers aboard, Turkish Airlines still provides in-flight meals carefully packaged and catered to the diverse tastes of all their valued customers.

Back in December I had the privilege of partaking in one of these delectable mile high meals on my way from Istanbul to Beirut. However, before tucking in to this culinary repast an important decision needed to be made. Yes, for indeed economy class even had the luxury to choose. Chicken or Beef. More precisely, Mediterranean Marinated Chicken Breast or Grilled Turkish Meatballs.

I could hardly contain myself. What a fantastic turn of luck. You could have put me in the cargo hold as long as you gave me a bag of peanuts. This was first class treatment.

There was one glaring misstep however, in the way this dinner party played out.

At exactly the moment the head flight attendant begin the requisite, yes boring but dare I say vital safety briefing, an assistant took with eager initiative, the opportunity to pass out the carefully prepared Turkish Airways Menu Cards. Chicken or Beef.

My mouth watered as I clutched my very own complimentary copy. Chicken or Beef.
Both with assorted vegetables, fresh bread, tea or coffee and some sort of Turkish dessert to help ease the digestive process. My head was spinning. Don’t screw this up Leo.

As I looked around me, all of my fellow travel companions sat transfixed by their own menus. Each locked in a personal struggle of choice. Chicken or Beef.

I chanced to look forward down the aisle. There was the head flight attendant, now donning a silly yellow life preserver and oxygen mask, droning on about safety procedures and pointing perfunctorily towards the emergency exits. Chicken or Beef.

Check Please…. She just might know something that we hungry passengers don’t. I tucked my menu into my shirt pocket, close to my heart and gave a quick listen.

It’s been proven time and again, in the unlikely event of a plane crash, those passengers that have taken the time (30 seconds) to listen attentively to the safety briefing and consciously located their nearest exits are more likely to survive. Chicken or Beef.
Hell, I’ll take the bag of peanuts and decide between the Front and Side Exit.

Fear Not, I am a proud member of the Turkish Airlines Mileage Club and have diligently notified them of my concern. How can you enjoy your meal when you are worrying about emergence exits?
Chicken or Beef. I’ll see you on the ground.