merel van beeren

(welcome to Istanbul)

It’s a Thursday afternoon, and I feel like I haven’t slept properly in days. Which is actually true, come to think of it. I’m in Istanbul, on the border between Europe and Asia, and have been averaging 5 hours of sleep per night.

Known as the city on seven hills (a nickname it shares with Rome and San Francisco), Istanbul is home to more than sixteen million people. For four weeks this summer, it’ll be home to me as well: working as an intern at Hürriyet Daily News and taking introductory courses in Turkish at Bahçeşehir Üniversitesi, arranged by ieiMedia. At the same time, I’m getting to know the Turkish press and its inner workings, hoping to translate my newfound knowledge into an extensive article that will serve as my MA thesis at NYU.

Stumbling out of a plane last Friday afternoon, I made my way through customs, found my luggage, and grabbed myself a cab – heading for one of the Bahçeşehir dorms in Istanbul’s Beşiktaş neighborhood. Staring groggily out of the window, I realized I had never been in a cab in a country where I hardly knew the language, all on my own. Over an hour later, I finally arrived (after the cab driver had extensively studied the address I gave him, shook his head profusely, asked for a number to call for directions, and stopped at several cornershops for even more details) and bumped into most of ieiMedia’s Istanbul group. Back from their first tour of the neighborhood, they were off to dinner in one of the many restaurants overlooking the Bosphorus. Dumping my stuff into my room – it looked spacious and clean on first glance – I went with them.

Welcome to Istanbul.