Fındıkzade

The weather was cold and rainy as I left Sultanahmet. My scrawny shoulders and arms labored under the weight of my packed belongings; I foolishly wore a winter coat which made me sweat profusely as I toiled up the hill, burdened. I should have taken a taxi to avoid the neighborhood gawkers that regularly accost me on my walks to and from my former home - they were out despite the rain. One, the one who I am convinced stands on the street all day solely waiting for me to pass by, was nice enough to help me with our bags, but he pestered me along the way with questions about where I was going, when I would come back, etc. (and how much, of course).

Getting on the crowded, stuffy humid tram straining under the weight of my bags, however, I breathed a sigh of relief: I don't have to come back here anymore. I don't have to take back streets to avoid the hasslers. I don't have to indulge Turkish hospitality for the sake of an impromptu English lesson. I don't have to have loud Spaniards in my way. I don't have to freeze at the sound of the front door closing and shuffles in the hallway at night for fear it might be my (now ex) drunken landlord. I don't have to walk over coarse and uneven cobblestones up and down the hill to get to and from home. I don't have to ride the tram for an hour to get to and from work anymore.

The neighborhood of Fındıkzade in the district of Fatih, which I now call home, is quite the contrast from the stuffy pestering district of Sultanahmet. It is pointedly less crowded and laid back, and most certainly a family neighborhood, the kind where old headscarved grandmothers lower a basket on a string down from the fourth floor window for the neighborhood children to put bread and water from the corner shop in. It is closer to my work, which is a major relief, because it now only takes me about half an hour to get to work. Everything is inexpensive, and it is much quieter. The people are friendly, and no one bothers me.

Walking into my new apartment was literally a breath of fresh air. Fresh, cold air. It is the ground floor apartment, which means that it is set slightly below street level, and, therefore, always cooler than the rest of the building. This will be good for when the full force of the Turkish summer sun is at its strongest, however. There is no gas, which is good because I won't have to pay a steep gas bill. I set my bags down, and heaved a sigh of relief. Home, sweet home.

Room to unpack

My new apartment is twice the size of my old one, furnished, and I pay less money. The walls are painted a lovely pinkish-peach color; the aroma of fresh paint was still lingering. The furniture is relatively new and comfortable and not some worn, hideous lot of earthen-hued 70's or 80's junk, and the carpets are new and tasteful. Incandesant light bulbs hang naked from the ceilings in an art deco-ish fashion.


The bedroom is equipped with a dresser and an armoir (both of which my old house lacked) as well as a queen-sized bed. The roomy bedroom window faces the street, which means the curtains must be closed all the time, but at least a lot of light comes in, unlike my old bedroom, which was a windowless dungeon at the back of the apartment.

Alley view and a huge fridge to boot

The kitchen is delightful: a normal-sized refrigerator and a tiled countertop with a wide sink below a window gets a lot of air and light into the kitchen and makes it an enjoyable place to hang out. I need to get some chairs or stools to put in there. However, it lacks a stove - instead it has a squat blue propane tank with a burner on which you can place pots or pans to cook. Dishes line the cabinets and even though the cooking medium leaves something to be desired, there are plenty of pots and pans, so I can cook more than two dishes (although not at the same time).

Clean, roomy, and sunny

Down the hallway from the kitchen and bedroom on the left is the bathroom. The previous occupant left a strange vareity of plastic shelves and other unsavory items in the trash can which I promptly disposed of. Like all bathrooms in Turkey, it is a wet room, with the electric water-heated shower in the middle. When you shower, the whole bathroom gets wet, and when you are finished you have to squeegee all the water puddles to the drain. Unfortunately, this bathroom is devoid of a western toilet, much to my agitation, so the asian toilet (see an earlier post) in the corner is both the place where you (squat) do your business and also the drain for the shower. *Sigh* I suppose you can't have your cake and eat it too. It is a sizeable bathroom, but I am irked by the asian toilet and the toilet tank that constantly runs and sometimes overflows if you don't babysit the old and faulty float in the tank. I lay awake the other night pondering this particular plumbing problem - namely, to see if I could have a western toilet installed. But then, the shower drain would have to be reworked, and then you get into tile work and the like, so I concluded that, like every plumbing problem, you open a real can of worms when you dare to venture into that territory - the required work grows exponentially. I have my uncle Andrew to thank for helping teach me that.

That's going to be a bit hard to get used to...

My living room is the piece de resistance of my new abode. Wide, roomy, with a loveseat and a couch (trundle bed included), it even has.....wait for it.....a washing machine!!! Never has such a sight brought me such happiness. The living room looks out over a tiny garden - well, more of like a concrete patio with shelved walls in which various weeds are growing, but at any rate, it's a nice place to sit when the weather is nice and has room enough for several clotheslines on which I can hang my clothes to dry. There is no TV, but I am wondering whether I will relly need one with the garden and all. The garden is in kind of a bad way - moldy, mossy, scattered with cigarette butts and various other unwanted household items - but I am glad about that, because it will give me something to do in my spare time and will satisfy my handyman itch to do something with my hands. Hey, I poked around Laurel St. for so long, so I've been dying for a project like this. Hopefully, when all is said and done it will be a nice space to sit in and have kebap barbecues with friends.

We'll get this cleaned up in no time

The new house is indeed delightful and has great energy. It feels like the previous occupants were good, honest people, and I swear I can feel the residual energy of children in the apartment. The landlord is kind and friendly, and the building is quiet. The building is located at the end of a short alley off a quiet street and is near a primary school, so the only noise is the occasional cries and laughter of playing children and the simit seller who comes down the alley at 9 am - ''Simit simit simit simitçi simit simit...!!!'' who will pass you a simit through the window if you don't want to go outside.

At the street end of my alley about 30 yards away I have everything I need: Bim, a discount grocery store; an appliance sales/repair shop; a bakery; a butcher; a shop that sells laundry soaps and other household cleaning suppies; a drinking water supply store; a tea house; a döner shop; and, of course, a row of payphones. Everything within an arm's reach, and friendly and honest people to boot; no, no swindlers here. And, of course, I am a 5 minutes' walk from the tram station that takes me to and from work (and the rest of the city).


Of course, what would a move be without some problem? No change of location passes unhindered. Tuesday night, the second night in my apartment, Chrissy had been making good use of the washing machine late into the night. I got up to use the bathroom and heard copious amounts of water splashing onto the floor. What's this? Peering into the bathroom, I saw water flooding the floor from under the sink. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that the washing machine drainage hose emptied right into the bathroom floor. Hm, OK. I went into the living room and got my feet soaked; for some reason, water from the washing machine had overflowed and water was all over the floor in the living room - saturating the carpet, under the couch, everywhere. ''Good thing I have the ground floor apartment,'' I thought, shaking my head. I don't know why the water went everywhere, but I stayed up late into the night trying to sop up all the spilled water with my one towel. Hopefully that won't happen again, because I am very excited about this washing machine - I haven't done wash for weeks and I don't need it shitting the bed on me.

My problematic (?) washer

As everyone now most likely knows, my girlfriend Christine has come to visit me. I think she got a little culture shocked at first, but we have been having a wonderful time. Even though I work a lot, she has been exploring a lot on her own, and when I have time I have been trying to show her around and a good time as much as possible. I am glad she is here because it is very nice to see a familiar face and have a good friend to share things with. She really likes İstanbul, especially the tea and the fresh food. I always love playing tour guide for people, and I know she loves being shown around too. And finally, I have been doing some of the tourist things I have put off for so long. Perhaps now that I am out of Sultanahmet I will be more inclined to do such things.


A great roommate, a great neighborhood, and a great living space. Everything is just. Right.