Antalya

Yesterday I got lost in Antalya. I have been lost before, twice before in Antalya and countless other times in Istanbul. Previously, I could always find my way to my destination by sticking to my instincts or finding a landmark. Yesterday night was an exception to the rule. After walking my friend Laura to her apartment at 9:15PM I thought I could trim a few minutes off my hour and half hike back to my place by taking a different road. I was sorely mistaken and walked 45 minutes in the wrong direction in the middle of the night. Luckily I was able to contact a friend who let me crash on his sofa after I had backtracked for an hour. When I woke up the next morning I realized I had spent over 3 hours wandering though the city.

Over the past few days I have been able to get familiar with the city of Antalya (or so I thought). The city is distinctly different than any other city in Turkey and resists categorization. The best way to think about Antalya is Turkey’s version of Miami. The first parallel with America’s magic city is the heat. Antalya is disgustingly hot. My apartment lacks a clima (AC) and my room is the hottest in the flat. Though I keep my fan on all night, I wake up every morning in a pool of my own perspiration promptly at 7:30. Showering in the morning is a completely futile gesture as I completely sweat though my clothing during my 50 minute morning strolls to the Cultural Center. The afternoon is spent jumping between air-conditioned rooms. Today I made the observation that it requires 150 meters of gentle walking to become uncomfortably sweaty. The city does not stop for this heat, the Turks seem somehow immune to excessive sweating and appear un-phased. At 8pm the weather becomes more tolerable and more people appear on the streets. The playgrounds of Antalya are still packed with happy children until well after 10pm.

Antlaya also attracts the same kind of visitor as Miami. In big northern cities like New York, Paris or Istanbul, people come to see the landmarks and buildings. Tourists cram into iconic historical monuments with their cameras and guidebooks. They wander about the city like dumb sheep disrupting and disturbing the every environment enter. People come to Antalya and Miami with a completely different motive. Russians, Germans, and Turks come to this city to sit on the beach and do nothing. The historical significance of the beautiful and quaint downtown city center is not motivating enough to peel these people of the beautiful beaches. Visitors therefore are rarely seen outside of their walled resorts and the rest of the city is left to benefit from the jobs and foreign money. Thus Antalya retains a culture that is distinctly and authentically Turkish, relatively unsoiled by grubby tourist mobs.

The Third major similarity Antalya has with Miami is that it is always ready to party. The city seems full of people who spend their days sunbathing and their nights reveling at the clubs that dot the coast. The atmosphere is looser and more casual than stern Istanbul. The Turks of Antalya seem to have let down their headscarves and spent an extra few hours at the gym. Sometimes it is difficult to hear the call to prayer over a pulsing night-club or an intense beach volleyball game. Last Sunday I saw some middle aged Turkish women on the beach dancing spontaneously as their friends clapped a beat and sang songs. Those women are really the personification of the city: relaxing, smiling, and dancing.