I set foot in Istanbul on a night where I felt the freezing cold of February shivering. When I arrived in Taksim with the bus company that carried me from Izmir to Istanbul, it was quite late, but Istanbul’s nightlife was just beginning.
From Gümüşsuyu slope to Taksim Square i headed right. People who didn’t mind the cold weather were stretching out from the square towards Istiklal Street.. I was going to Tarlabaşı, whose name I had heard often with negativity before, to reach my friend’s house.. My friend lived in a restored old oriel house in Tarlabaşı.
While going downhill next to the florists, the crowd waiting in front of the minibus stops were trying to stay close to each other to avoid the cold.. Since I had to cross the road from a short distance, I had to throw myself to the other side of the road as soon as I encountered the iron bars between the road.. Taking advantage of the traffic lights, I crossed with difficulty between buses, taxis and cars that didn’t care much about the light.
I felt that I was approaching Tarlabaşı. While trying to move forward with the suffocating noise of the fast flowing traffic on my left, transvestites and prostitutes were chatting with the passers-by on every corner of the street that opens to the right. reached the level. I started to walk away from the main street, looking carefully at the surroundings in the dark street that glides downhill and extends into uncertainty.. Along with the chatter and desire of the transvestites in the corner to speak, the stove fumes rising from the ruined two-storey houses with bay windows prevented us from seeing the sky.. Each of these houses, which were located very close to each other, was connected to each other with clotheslines.. I guess the only thing that looked systematic and neat here were these threads.. A woman trying to collect laundry activated the mechanism by moving her hands back and forth.. While thinking about the cleaning of the laundry blended under the dense stove smoke, the raindrops touching the shattered asphalt made it very difficult to go downhill.. While trying not to slip with rubber shoes, I had to be on the alert for all kinds of dangers that might come from the environment.. Although, if someone blocked my way and tried to do anything, I had neither the physical strength nor any tools to resist. He said that he wanted a child from the young man approaching me.. Even though it was out of fear at first glance, I later learned that what I couldn’t understand was the drug pill.. Addicts used to come to these streets and do their shopping.
After I walked away quickly without speaking to the child, I came to the grocery store belonging to the neighborhood.. The boxes for fruits and vegetables and the neighborhood grocery store that occupied half of the road were selling branded products, many of which I did not know and saw for the first time.. Women who look alike, wearing slippers and booties, were walking away from the shopping they came with, chewing the gums in their mouths vigorously. in a sense, they ensured the security of the neighborhood.. Many of the dilapidated houses with bay windows were filled with garbage right from the door.. It was almost impossible to enter these houses.. The sporadic restored houses looked like gold grinning between rotten teeth.. On the one hand, the demolition houses heated by coal and on the other hand the contemporary houses with natural gas installation stood out in contrast.
My friend lived in an old restored Greek house.. After the sights I saw, I had the happiness of reaching home in the dark.. After entering this building, which is protected by a heavy door like a castle gate, I forgot the stress I felt for a moment.
I opened the door with the key I had and took a breather, then tried to satisfy my curiosity about street life.
I started to sneak a peek outside the curtains that surrounded the house.. The children, ignoring the fact that it was past midnight, were screaming and playing games.. It would be frightening for a child to be outside alone, not even an adult, at this hour.. But there was only one thing I didn’t know, this was Tarlabaşı, and the people in the neighborhood knew, followed, and watched over each other.
One of the rare events that caused uneasiness among the people of the neighborhood was the frequent police raids.. The negative image brought by prostitution was increasing the number of raids, as almost every house was suspected of being a drug-providing place. Another issue that bothered the residents was that it was bought by. According to rumors, these old houses, which have been restored in accordance with their originality, find buyers for millions of New Lira.. This attracts the attention of investors who have money and want to evaluate it.. When this is the case, the purchased houses are restored by removing the people living in them, and the people living here are forced to migrate to other places. Tarlabaşı, right next to it, is the place where you can find the best examples of duality in Istanbul.. I don’t think it would be as harmful as what is said to visit this district where you can encounter life and images from every layer.. Worth a try and see..
