It was a Monday late afternoon as N and I walked onto the extremely crowded Istiklal, Istanbul’s see-and-be-seen pedestrian avenue lined with all the coolest shops and restaurants. She and I walked among the masses on our way to meet a friend for dinner, chatting about her work and upcoming events at the University, when all of a sudden out of the hundreds of voices rose one extremely angry and violent? male tone, shouting in Turkish in such a manner that you needn’t understand Turkish to understand that this man was on the verge of hurting someone or something.
The voice must have pierced through the crowd and into our conversation at about the same time for both of us, as we immediatelyContinue reading “Abuse on the Street”
In the past I’ve made frequent references to the Sephardi jews that in the 15th century fled the Spanish inquisition and Portuguese King’s policies and settled in Amsterdam. I like to refer to that group in history as a clever ancestral anicdote as to why I like living in the Netherlands.
The first edition of 
Tucked away somewhere in the labyrinth of streets on the Asia side of Istanbul, you’d think you were walking into someone’s house until you notice that each room in this apartment is part of this modest radio station. Sitting in a sun room with windows overlooking this section of the city, sipping tea, I asked this producer from 