Welcome to Istanbul. Stare all you want.

DSCN1490.JPG

http://matadornetwork.com/community/anne137/welcome-to-istanbul-stare-all-you-want/attachment/33/

Back in Canada, as I was packing for Turkey, I fretted about clothes day and night. I scoured travel books, travel blogs, photo after photo online, trying to figure out typical (non-offensive) dress in this part of the world. I was headed to Istanbul, a place that most of my resources described as “very European, fashion-wise.” I knew it would be more cosmopolitan than the more conservative parts of the country, but I didn’t want to take any chances, especially when limited luggage space meant I needed clothes to carry me through all sorts of situations. To play it safe, I left my V-necks, halter tops, and above-the-knee skirts behind. 

“We’ll have to get used to not holding hands,” my boyfriend said to me on the plane. He too had been reading up on cultural taboos, and discovered that affectionate tourist-couples account for a lot of Turkey’s eye-rolling and social discomfort. 

Of course, some visitors don’t bother with this cross-cultural posturing, but I’m a real don’t-rock-the-boat type, especially in travel. In Thailand, I saw shirtless young men strut through crowded markets, squeezing through the crowds while the merchants stared on in disbelief. I saw my Thai friends bug their eyes in sheer horror on a beach holiday, where backpacker girls whipped off their bikini tops and bobbed happily in the water. In Korea, where couple PDA goes as far as hand-holding, I’ve seen local bargoers stiffen with discomfort when Western flirtation would move to the level of public make-outs.  

I’m not one for deep cleavage and public tonguing anyway. The point is, when I travel, I prefer to modify my behavior as needed so that I don’t make any local people cringe. All the resources at my fingertips led me to believe that, in Turkey, I would be erring on the side of modesty.

Hah.

Our first week was spent just off trendy Istakkal street, where young urbanites flitted from Mango to Topshop to bars and clubs, clad in tube tops, sundresses, and slogan T-shirts with racy innuendo. Of course, this was Istanbul’s most fashionable area, but it still caught me off-guard as I peered each morning into my pile of modest dresses and cardigans. 

As we explored more of the city, we sought out Istanbul’s greener spaces, to balance out all the urban humidity. Here, I learned that parks are the unspoken go-to spot for your frisky couples. I saw students lying on the grass, entwined in one another. I saw teenagers, still in their frumpy school uniforms, smooching away as if they weren’t in public at all. I saw young women in traditional headscarves whose limbs were so tangled with their partner’s, their feet weren’t touching the ground!

Gobsmacked, I mentioned these sightings to my coworkers, all veteran Istanbul expats. They laughed. “Everyone gets caught-off guard when they go to parks for the first time,” they told me. “You wouldn’t see it in other parts of Turkey, but this really is a European city.”

One point that drew me to Istanbul was its geographic location. Poised between Asia and Europe, I anticipated a fascinating cross-roads of cultures, customs, and lifestyles. But I had assumed that the European-ness of Istanbul would be more noticeable in architecture or chain coffee shops than it would be in people’s public habits. It’s a surprising thing, but a fascinating one too. I’ll keep my modest summer attire. After all, it’s the only clothing I have. But you might catch me holding hands with a little less self-consciousness from now on.