Istanbul, As Ever

I’ve started writing so many pieces this year called “Istanbul Is Safe, Really.”

Then I get distracted, and take a little too long to finish it. And then some event happens in Turkey and I decide to wait and see that the situation is really okay.

And even as the political climate (particularly in the Southeast) gets dicey, Istanbul remains a safe and exciting city I love living in. And I think, I should really finish that “Istanbul is Safe” piece.

Then a bomb goes off in Sultanahmet and I think, damn it.

Tuesday was terrible. I was nowhere near the explosion– more than one friend sent me messages that said something like “I know you’re too cool to hang out in Sultanahmet, but wanted to make sure you were okay anyway”– but I work for a travel company that did have people there that morning. They are fine. I spent the day exhausted emotionally, eventually giving in to the overwhelming urge to just get back under my covers and turn off all the screens.

Today, with a fresh brain, I find that I’m actually not really worried about my safety here. No more than I ever am, actually. I’m worried about my company’s business. I’m worried about tourism. I’m worried about the country’s long-term stability. But not about my safety.

Because here’s the thing: people have this idea that Istanbul is inherently less safe because IT’S THE MIDDLE EAST (sort of?) and IT’S NEAR SYRIA (partially?) and IT’S MUSLIM (technically?) but really, the issue is that for many people, Turkey is far away and unfamiliar. And the unknown is scarier, always.

But three years ago, Boston was bombed, and we’re not scared to visit Boston. When I was in California, there was a shooting in San Bernardino– a city outside of LA, where my sister lives– and yet we’re not scared of Southern California. The attacks in Paris were much more terrifying and much more coordinated, and yet Paris isn’t inherently frightening. Je suis Paris, etc.

Here’s what I’ve done since a bomb went off in Sultanahmet: I had a cappuccino at a trendy cafe with a couple of my readers. I bought groceries from the family-run market on my block. I drank a Guinness in a crowded Irish pub with a friend. I listened to David Bowie and took a ferry at sunset from Asia to Europe. I gave a talk to a group of visiting students. I ate Syrian food in Taksim Square. I wore red lipstick.

I lived my lovely jam-packed life and didn’t feel unsafe.

Please don’t fear Istanbul. Please don’t cancel your trips. Please don’t let the news convince you that Turkey is a scary country.

Yes, the attack was horrific. But Istanbul is full of life and love and light. Don’t let a stupid terrorist convince you otherwise.

And when you come to visit, I’ll be here.

(I want to encourage you to read my friend Emily’s post, which really gets at what I was feeling much more gracefully and directly. Seriously, read it, it’s excellent.)

My thoughts about all this seem to be shifting hourly, and I nearly didn’t post this– but this is how I felt when I wrote the piece yesterday evening, so I’m letting it stand. I’m more curious, how do you feel? Are you in Istanbul now, too? Are you planning to visit?