Grand Bazaar
I heard these phrases or a variation almost every step I took in the Grand Baazar. An overload of senses everything from the smells of spice, leather, colors of every shade and anything you could possibly need..all in one place. Jam-packed with the best salesman on earth yelling for your attention. At first you feel like a local celebrity. All the men stopping me, offering me tea, telling me how beautiful I am and wouldn’t I just love to buy a scarf, jeans, jewelry, purse, rug, lamp…….everything imaginable a true market; where the daily price is set by the tenacity of the tourists and the mental will of the salesmen. Prices fluctuate quite like the stock market in this vicious game of survival of the fittest but done with a smile. In Sultanahmet the men have a special brand of Turkish hospitality rebranded for the average stranger from a distant land. Aggressive, as the day wears on I’m literally being carried into shops by men that are holding my arm so tight and dragging me into their stands as if their lives depended on my presence. Once inside they beam proudly as they show the American their special products and their neighbors look on in envy. I’m just trying to get out. But one mile might as well feel like one days journey in the market. I’m too mentally drained at this point to feel anger. It’s my first day and I haven’t slept but the energy of the place feeds me strength.
That will be 300 euros, mademoiselle. “I’m not French”! ” Where are you from?” “Chicago” ” ohh ok Bulls, tell Obama I said hi”.. ” I have a cousin in Wisconsin”…..”Would you like to buy the Iphone 5? Its special you can only find it in Istanbul”….
Posted in: stories from my travels
VIVIENNETOILE 
Posted on February 21, 2012
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