There are a lot more children on the streets of Istanbul. The streets are full of children. There are young girls aged eight or nine begging on the streets. Women cradle young babies in alleyways and street corners, their hands outstretched.
Tarlabaşı Boulevard (pronounced “Tar-la-bash-uh”) runs more or less parallel to the grandiose pedestrianised İstiklal Caddesi (Independence Avenue), in the boutique-chic district of Beyoğlu, but no similarity exists between them. Tarlabaşı is like the dark twin of İstiklal. Most Istanbul folk are afraid to even go there, and I’ve lost count of the times I’ve been…
11-13th August, 2013 H gets lost. It’s endearing, but frustrating. I know his bus arrived two hours ago, but have no way of getting in touch. I have to wait and twiddle my thumbs until it occurs to him to borrow someone’s phone to call me. Finally, my phone rings. I give him directions to…
A Girl and Her Thumb 