2019 Nov 15 Istanbul · City Notes

Nov 15, 2019 Istanbul · City Notes
• At dawn the calls to prayer rose from four directions, a kind of polyphony—melodious and calm. I hopped the little tram through the old city to find a quiet corner by the sea, to write and sketch and let my thoughts settle. By the time I came back to myself it was already noon.
• I drifted along the shopping streets looking for food. Unknown brands everywhere; electronics can’t beat China’s online shops, and clothes/shoes neither. I lingered 40 minutes in a small bookstore, checking travel and archaeology shelves—partly to see how other countries introduce my own, partly to learn more about the treasures here. The books I wanted existed only in Turkish, which was frustrating; more frustrating, I found almost nothing on China, while Korea, Japan and Southeast Asia appeared often. Maybe our tourism “hasn’t reached this shelf” yet; even nature trips to China could help, but it’s probably easier for them to go to Europe.
• Sitting on church steps at a street corner, people flowed past like an endless, never-repeating film. The backdrop hasn’t changed for centuries; only faces and clothes do—veiled Muslim women, robed men, European ladies and gentlemen, many handsome local Eurasian men and blond beauties; couples in love, families of three to five. Asian faces appeared only now and then.
• A few kids played for tips: one beat rhythms on a bucket, one squeezed a small accordion, another blew a tiny reed-organ—simple but lovely, and cheerful.
• A heap of city trash sat before me, ruled by a broken sofa. Four big sweepers came: the first took some black bags; the second took a few boards; the third took nothing; the fourth moved the sofa from the street to an alley mouth and drove off. I looked down to write; when I looked up—the sofa was gone. Magic! I touched the stone wall—felt like Diagon Alley must be hidden there. I must be missing a wand or spell.
• A soap-bubble vendor covered the street in iridescent layers; the tram clanged through again and again to scatter them. The vendor kept refilling until, finally, a buyer came—he had two bubble-makers left.
• A tower glowing blue welcomed visitors; despite its best effort, the queue at its base still stretched hundreds of meters. From the top you can see both sides of the Marmara and the outline of a “One Thousand and One Nights” city.
• About ten hours left before my flight; the ordinary chores are lining up. If we have an appointment, please nudge me—it’s not that I don’t care; my brain’s just a little offline.

Closing notes 
• 4,500 km, 15 days, self-drive.
• Work trip + field notes; my first time in another ancient civilization like ours. Nature is comparable; the human heritage hits like a hammer—worlds apart. In my limited view, nowhere I’ve been at home quite matches it.
• Every city has an era to boast of. That pride comes from generations of protection and stewardship; over time it writes into local DNA. Restoration is ongoing; century-old buildings are everywhere— not just monuments but homes— and millennia-old structures aren’t rare.
• This makes me think of home: in a capital with centuries of history, without plaques you might mistake much for builds of the last few decades. As we “restore,” new-old buildings rise, yet the flavor is lost. We stride forward, but when we try to look back, our eyes find less weight.
• A people who look back often can become strong—going farther, with confidence and character. So it’s worth learning how people elsewhere have developed through time, to broaden perspective and better steer the future.

2019年11月15日 伊斯坦布尔 城市漫记，鳗说鳗聊
● 清晨，礼拜寺的早课此起彼伏的传来，声音来自于4个方向，有种多音织体的美，悠扬宁静的感觉，继续搭上小火车穿过古城找个舒服的地方，准备独自享受这难得的慵懒时光，在海边的小角落写写画画，映着景捋捋思绪，再有意识已经是正午当头，呆呆的就过了几个小时，
● 商业街上随心转转，本想找点吃食，一个个出现的不知道的品牌商店随机看了看，卖电子的比不过某猫某宝，卖衣服卖鞋的同样也是如此，书店里待的时间最长，不大的书店待了40分钟，主要是看看旅游和考古的分类，一个是想看看各国眼中怎样介绍我伟大的国，一个是想更深了解一下所在国的宝藏，看上的书因为只有土耳其语而不得不放弃，真是郁闷；更郁闷的是关于中国的就根本没有找到，邻居韩国、日本和东南亚国家的介绍却频繁出现，我就觉得这是中国的旅游资源还没普照到这里的节奏啊，来中国不看古迹，看看自然风光也能帮我们创收啊，粗略一想，好像他们去欧洲确实更方便。坐在繁华闹市中的一座教堂街角台阶上，形形色色的过客各有其目的的走过，像一卷没有尽头不会重复的电影，背景几个世纪没有变化，不同变换的是人们的面孔和着装，有带着面纱的穆斯林女人，长袍加身的传统穆斯林男人，有欧洲的贵妇，绅士，最多的是本地的欧亚混血儿帅哥和金发美女，有热恋的情侣，也有一家家的三五人一起，亚洲的面孔偶尔成了点缀；零星为了生计卖艺的小朋友，敲着桶发出有节奏的鼓点，旁边的拉着小一号的手风琴，还有一个吹着小小的管风琴，就这样组成了一个即简陋又动听的小组合，场面很是欢乐；随着垃圾车的行进，在我面前由破沙发占主要视觉地位的一堆城市垃圾开始发生变化，一共过了4辆大型清扫车，第一辆收走了几个黑色袋装的，第二辆收走了几块不成形的板子，第三辆看了一眼什么都没收，第四辆的工作人员把破沙发由路中间搬到了旁边的胡同口里，简单的说是藏在了那里，然后开走了。就这么开走了......，低下头写两笔的时间，抬头一看，破沙发就不见了，好神奇！我走过去摸了摸放破沙发的石头墙，这里好像链接着魔法世界的斜角巷，我打不开一定是少了魔杖或是什么咒语，要不怎么就会这么凭空消失了呢，临走前这座城市还给我留了这么个脑洞大开的世纪之谜。卖肥皂水的商人把眼前的一段路都笼罩了一层层彩色的泡泡，铛铛车的驶过一次又一次的驱散了这些泡泡，商人则不辞辛苦的继续补充着，终于有了买主，他手中还剩两个泡泡制造机。一座被照的散发着蓝色仙气的高塔在迎接着世界各地游客，虽然他已经竭尽全力，但塔下游客排起的长龙仍有着几百米，站在塔顶确实可以遥望马尔马拉海峡两边的欧亚大陆，一千零一夜的城市轮廓尽收眼底。距离起飞还有10来个钟头，各种的凡事已经接踵而来，踏上故土的一瞬间我将迎接这些忙碌，如果你和我有约请提醒下，不是不重视，是脑子还有些许不在线。

● 鳗说鳗聊结语
● 四千五百公里，十五天的行程，自己开车，
● 出差加采风，第一次来到这个同样与我们一样的文明古国，自然风景伯仲之间，人文古迹当头一棒，天壤之别，自认为我的国已经走的大半却无一处可以同级而语；但自知视野狭小仅表个人观点。
● 每个城市都有属于自己可以炫耀的一个时代，炫耀的资本是由每一代人用心保护和潜心经营所换来，虽旷日持久但这种独有的承载会写入这里孕育出的每个生命基因中。走在街上依然能看到正在进行时的修缮和整理，百年的建筑随处可见，不光是大型的，民居亦是如此，上千年的建筑同样不新鲜。这让我有点想家，一座几百年历史的古都要是不加以注释你一定会认为就这三五十年新建的，除了地名承载了许多的故事以外，随着保护各种“新的旧建筑”也在恢复，但是味道再也找不回来了，一片新新向荣，向前走的我们想回头看看的时候，两眼却是迷茫而没有了厚重的传承。常回头看看的民族才能强大起来，走的更远，走的自信，走的更有自己的特色。既然是如此，应借这不同归属之地，了解下“人”的过去种种发展之路，以此加宽视角，更好的掌控未来。