A Crowded Place

A really crowded place I visited was the Istanbul Grand Bazaar, which I went to with my sister during a trip to Turkey about two years ago. It was a Saturday afternoon in summer, which, as we discovered, is probably the worst possible time to go. The bazaar is enormous — one of the largest and oldest covered markets in the world, with thousands of shops in a maze of streets under painted ceilings. It was crowded for several reasons: it was peak tourist season, cruise ships had just arrived, and local families were doing their weekend shopping. In some narrow passages, you literally couldn’t move; you just shuffled forward with the crowd. Shopkeepers were calling out to everyone, and there was a constant noise of bargaining in about ten languages. My feelings were quite mixed. On the one hand, it was fascinating — the colours of the lamps and carpets, the smell of spices and leather, and the sense of history were unforgettable. On the other hand, after about an hour, I started feeling claustrophobic and slightly overwhelmed, and I was constantly checking my bag for pickpockets. We eventually escaped to a quiet café outside, and I remember that first glass of tea feeling like pure luxury.

“On the one hand … On the other hand …” — aralash his-tuyg‘ularni tuzilmali ifodalang.