vision of a gentle coast

My apartment hosted a dinner/party Friday night. As bowls of chili, sauerkraut, and tabbouleh were passed around (it was a multi-cultural event, obviously), a few of us made plans to head to the Prens Adaları (Princes' Islands) the next day. Around 10 of us decided to depart by ferry for the fourth and biggest island, Büyükada, at 10:30 am. Somewhere between making plans, drinking too much Efes, and waking up at 10, we missed the ferry we wanted to take. Despite this, a few of us got in touch and decided to go through with the plans. After an hour and a half ferry ride, we arrived at Büyükada.

Ferry ride. Somewhere on the Marmara.

 
The island is devoid of cars, but if you didn't know it before hand, the scent of horse crap would clue you in. The horses are everywhere - pulling carriages, standing around, grazing through the parks.

Wildish horses.

We rented bikes and took in as much of the island as we could. We managed to catch one of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever experienced. We ended the trip with dondurma and waffles and decided to return again at a later date. If there is such thing as heaven on Earth, Büyükada might be it.

Even more beautiful in person.

all along the eastern shore

An earthquake erupted off-shore Japan today. Watching the footage of the resultant tidal waves flushing through Japanese land serves as a reminder that despite what we build on the land, what we create in laboratories, and what endlessly-economically funded innovations we create, there is little we can do in the way of protecting against natural disasters.

This type of scenario is even more impactful living in Istanbul. It's no secret that the bi-continental city lies on insecure lands. In addition to straddling "one of the most active seismic fault lines on the globe," Istanbul as a city has much less wealth per-capita than similarly imperiled areas like San Francisco, Los Angeles, or much of Japan. Further, because of the massive (est. 15 million) and growing population in the city, construction is largely unregulated and the number of homeless people continues to grow. What's more, many of the aged buildings in the city (some dating back to the 15th Century) haven't been supplemented with any earthquake resiliency materials.

As I walk through my neighborhood, I sense the importance of taking in the city as much as possible. There is never a guarantee when it comes to natural disasters. A city or region can create risk-assessment and management plans, but no amount of planning can prevent the devastation that comes with such powerful destruction.

Istanbul, I love you today, and hope that if you can't fully withstand Mother Nature, you can showcase and subsequently increase your resiliency. Maşallah...

For further reading on Istanbul's impending earthquake:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2006/dec/09/turkey.naturaldisasters

into the fire and rain

This winter has surprised me. First, it was timid and every bit an afterthought. As of late, however, it's been hard to leave the flat for fear that my glove, scarf, vest, coat combo won't keep me warm enough. I'm used to the cold - I grew up mostly in Michigan where my memories of waiting for the school bus are filled with building snowmen and igloos. Then I spent two years in New Hampshire where it makes much more sense to invest in a good pair of cross country skis than snow tires.

I'm used to this stuff. But here...it's different. The cold is damp and makes you feel like you're bones were put in the freezer and then given back to you with a pat on the back and a 'Good luck getting warmer!' The nearly constant rain/mist doesn't help with this either. This is a winter I wasn't prepared for, but I'm dealing with it the best I can.

Typical winter day in Taksim

Wet. Cold.

Something crazy happened just today, though. I woke up early to get a run in before the track started to fill with soccer and ultimate frisbee players (not joking), and noticed that the sidewalk beneath my feet was starting to dry. It wasn't raining. Somewhere around mile 4, I felt the sun start to come out. That was it. The rainy cold days that seemed so monotonously unending lately suddenly stopped just like that. My roommates and I decided to take advantage of this upswing and walked through Bebek. The district along the Bosphorus is always beautiful, but it seems to have something more when the sun is out. Inshallah, this is the start of a trend.

Must be nice getting a dry nap for a change.

Local fishing boat.

Korean freighter.

Along the sahil in Bebek.