Reflecting on my Second Home... - Istanbul, Turkey

Please note that this post was originally written in 2016, and reflects a specific time in Istanbul’s history. Istanbul is a city that hasn’t encountered a situation like this since around this time, and is a place that, although I no longer live there, I would happily travel back to anytime. In fact, I recently wrote a guide on Istanbul travel tips to help people explore my former home.

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It's interesting, all day I've been desperate to find a moment to write something down - to begin to process what has occured this weekend in Istanbul. I didn't know what I had to say, and, frankly, I still don't, but writing has always been my way of deconstructing that which may, on the surface, seem like a rope far too tangled to ever again be useful. What I do know is that despite the fact that this was not the first bombing, or even the first "near miss" for me, this was different.

Istanbul is not a war zone, despite what the media might depict, but I'm also struggling to honestly say that you can live here now without incurring a certain amount of risk. I know that I love living here, but I also know that I would tell my family and friends not to visit at this time. Certainly, the large explosion outside of the Beşiktaş stadium is not emblematic of any sort of everyday experience here, but I'm also not necessarily shocked this occured. And that's painful to admit. Since the tumultuous times of the summer, I was relieved to see that violence and hostility hadn't yet made its way back into Istanbul, but I, like many others, was waiting with my eyes closed and fingers crossed. With yesterday's blast, I feel like I was jolted awake just shortly after I felt as if I could let my guard down. I was confronted head on with my own naivety. 

I didn't just hear the bombs or feel the tremble in the concrete, I saw the blast from a vantage point which gave me an opportunity to see exactly what had happened, and made me wish I hadn't seen it at all. Let's be clear, this isn't a "woe is me" story. That would be selfish and ridiculous.  I was, at the time, at an engagement party surrounded by 20 or so friends I've been blessed to meet. We were together, we were able to debrief what had happened, and we were safe...when many people weren't so fortunate. So, when writing this, it's not pity I want, and, when I think about it, I don't think it's pity that Istanbul needs. I suppose, in a sense, writing this is trying to figure out what it is that both Istanbul and I do actually need, and the acceptance that I may not have the answer to either question, nor the power to solve any problems if I did. 

The flash of the bomb reached the 20th floor of the Marmara Hotel in Taksim like a devilish crack of lightning. The dim room was illuminated, and time seemed to stop as all of us tried to think of ways we could justify what we had just seen. With all our attention looking towards Beşiktaş, we saw another explosion (which I'm to understand was a suicide bomber) in Maçka Park, just to the left of the stadium. I took my phone out, took a picture of the stadium, and did what I could to warn people to steer clear. And, It also sunk in that the explosion I saw had just cost countless people their lives, and I was so close I could nearly smell the smoke.

My phone, like many of my other friends' phones at the gathering, instantly went into overdrive with messages and phone calls asking whether we were safe, with the respective messagers and callers knowing we weren't sound. Friends reached out to me from across the world after seeing this very tweet on Al Jazeera and many other news outlets. It was the feeling of having a role in a play you would have done anything to not be a part of. My friend took a video around that moment:

Perhaps the most disturbing footage comes from a group of teenagers playing guitar across the water. It gives the best idea of just how large this was. It was bizarre seeing the initial news reports of "dozens injured" or what have you, and knowing yourself, with certainty, that the explosion did more than just wound.

When this happens, you first ensure your family and friends are safe. Then, afterwards, you make sure you can get yourself to safety. In our case, we waited for an hour or so, then walked to a friend's place nearby. We went there to unwind, to talk in circles, to feel familiarity. I ended up chatting to a journalist working with CNN about the whole affair, and for the most part she just ended up repeating "wow," over and over and over again.

And I guess that's what I'm having trouble with. In many ways, I've become de-sensitized to what can and has happened in the city while I've been here, and to hear someone react so strongly, or with such shock...was, in a sense, shocking for me.

I feel as if I've come to know Istanbul so well, and come to love Istanbul so deeply, that I'm almost completely unable to look at the situation here objectively. I want to believe that things will change for the better so badly, that I'm worried I'm unable to see that they won't.

I weave back and forth in my mind between thinking that I'm overreacting when I feel this sense of worry about what the future holds for me here, and under-reacting when friends back home see the news and ask when my plane is landing tomorrow. And I teeter between what I know is true about this city with my own two eyes, and what I can't comprehend with the entirety of my brain. I feel guilty for thinking of leaving when so many people I care about here don't have that luxury, and I feel stupid for thinking of staying when so many people I care about have their arms wide open 8000 kilometres away. I feel a haunting rush of adrenaline to be in the heart of the world's top news story, and I feel a sense of crushing defeat to realize that the city in the headlines is my second home.

So, here I am, searching for a manual that doesn't exist, and cherishing all that this city and its people have given to me, while I try to figure out if there is anything left for me to give back.

I'm trying to figure out if it's time to put a period at the end of this chapter of my life.

I'm trying to figure out if I should move to another city, and accept that Turkey will always be firmly etched into my heart, but that I still may have to leave its shores.

Europe Travel, Turkey TravelChristopher MitchellEurope, Istanbul, Reflection, Terror, Terrorism, Turkey