Annoyed with the slow-moving crowd of gawking shoppers on Sandemir marina, I stepped off the curb and nearly collided with another pedestrian.
Where I had bounced off my left foot and put my right forward, he had advanced his left, pushing off with his right. We were both momentarily startled, and I took the opportunity to raise the camera hanging around my neck and take the man’s picture.
He was squat, or squashed---he looked like he was under a lot of pressure. Thick Turkish eyebrows, nostril hairs protruding. Sweat on his neck, cuts on his fingers.
“Hey, did I give you permission to shoot my picture pal?”
“No. This is a public place, you have no reasonable expectation to privacy.”
“Well fine then, how about I take your picture?”
I couldn’t think of a reason why he shouldn’t. I handed him the Canon and watched him adjust the focus. It occurred to me that maybe I should smile, but I didn’t.
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s take a look.”
“We can’t. It’s film. I need to get it developed.”
“Yeah, I know. There’s a photolab just over here, let’s go now.”
There was a one-hour wait, and they wouldn’t let us smoke cigarettes inside, so we leaned against a brick wall in the alley behind the place. I bought us plastic cups of cherry-colored çay from a street vendor, and we stood and smoked and sipped uneasily.
I looked up at a grey and stolid sky through electrical wires hanging in the alley and thought I saw the lines of a musical staff imposed on the clouds. A single gull flew in a diagonal and played a whole octave from low to high.
“So we might as well get to know one another,” he said, withdrawing another Camel from a pocket inside his jacket.
“I’m curious to know where you were headed in such a hurry.”
“I’ve got a letter to mail.”
I glanced at my watch. Only just after noon.
“The post office will be open for another four hours. What’s the rush?”
“That’s just how I walk. What’s your rush?”
“I was wandering.”
“Just a fast walker like me, huh?”
“On the contrary. I intend to spend all afternoon wandering, and I have no time to waste.”
The man snorted loudly and looked like he was about to spit but didn’t. Cigarette smoke curled around his knuckles.
We stood for some time, silently sipping and smoking.
“I am curious,” I said. “What would you have done had I not allowed you to take my picture?”
“Son, I would have knocked you silly.”
I almost laughed aloud and had to take a big gulp of tea to hide it.
“It’s not that I minded having my picture taken,” he continued. “You’re right; it’s a public place and in these times you can’t go anywhere public without getting on camera. But it’s the fact that you bumped into me, and then didn’t apologize.”
“It wasn’t my fault. Or yours. It was just an accident.”
“Yeah, I know that. But a man can’t go around letting people bump into him, even if it’s no one’s fault.”
“Why not?” I knew I was infuriating him.
“I bet you’re the kind of guy---” he took a slow drag of his cigarette--- “who prances around all day, taking pictures of pretty birds and sunsets and doesn’t really give two shits about the human beings around him.”
“Well yes, I do like pretty birds, and sunsets always send a chill down my spine, but it’s not true that I don’t care about people. On the contrary, I love almost everyone I see.”
He snorted again and looked at his wristwatch. “Alright, kid. Looks like we’ve got another 40 minutes, so I’m going to tell you a story. If you’re smart, it’ll really help you a lot. If you’re not smart, or you’re not paying attention, then my breath is wasted and no one can say I didn’t give you a fair chance.”
Where I had bounced off my left foot and put my right forward, he had advanced his left, pushing off with his right. We were both momentarily startled, and I took the opportunity to raise the camera hanging around my neck and take the man’s picture.
He was squat, or squashed---he looked like he was under a lot of pressure. Thick Turkish eyebrows, nostril hairs protruding. Sweat on his neck, cuts on his fingers.
“Hey, did I give you permission to shoot my picture pal?”
“No. This is a public place, you have no reasonable expectation to privacy.”
“Well fine then, how about I take your picture?”
I couldn’t think of a reason why he shouldn’t. I handed him the Canon and watched him adjust the focus. It occurred to me that maybe I should smile, but I didn’t.
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s take a look.”
“We can’t. It’s film. I need to get it developed.”
“Yeah, I know. There’s a photolab just over here, let’s go now.”
There was a one-hour wait, and they wouldn’t let us smoke cigarettes inside, so we leaned against a brick wall in the alley behind the place. I bought us plastic cups of cherry-colored çay from a street vendor, and we stood and smoked and sipped uneasily.
I looked up at a grey and stolid sky through electrical wires hanging in the alley and thought I saw the lines of a musical staff imposed on the clouds. A single gull flew in a diagonal and played a whole octave from low to high.
“So we might as well get to know one another,” he said, withdrawing another Camel from a pocket inside his jacket.
“I’m curious to know where you were headed in such a hurry.”
“I’ve got a letter to mail.”
I glanced at my watch. Only just after noon.
“The post office will be open for another four hours. What’s the rush?”
“That’s just how I walk. What’s your rush?”
“I was wandering.”
“Just a fast walker like me, huh?”
“On the contrary. I intend to spend all afternoon wandering, and I have no time to waste.”
The man snorted loudly and looked like he was about to spit but didn’t. Cigarette smoke curled around his knuckles.
We stood for some time, silently sipping and smoking.
“I am curious,” I said. “What would you have done had I not allowed you to take my picture?”
“Son, I would have knocked you silly.”
I almost laughed aloud and had to take a big gulp of tea to hide it.
“It’s not that I minded having my picture taken,” he continued. “You’re right; it’s a public place and in these times you can’t go anywhere public without getting on camera. But it’s the fact that you bumped into me, and then didn’t apologize.”
“It wasn’t my fault. Or yours. It was just an accident.”
“Yeah, I know that. But a man can’t go around letting people bump into him, even if it’s no one’s fault.”
“Why not?” I knew I was infuriating him.
“I bet you’re the kind of guy---” he took a slow drag of his cigarette--- “who prances around all day, taking pictures of pretty birds and sunsets and doesn’t really give two shits about the human beings around him.”
“Well yes, I do like pretty birds, and sunsets always send a chill down my spine, but it’s not true that I don’t care about people. On the contrary, I love almost everyone I see.”
He snorted again and looked at his wristwatch. “Alright, kid. Looks like we’ve got another 40 minutes, so I’m going to tell you a story. If you’re smart, it’ll really help you a lot. If you’re not smart, or you’re not paying attention, then my breath is wasted and no one can say I didn’t give you a fair chance.”
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