[DIARY OF AN EXPAT BRIDE] What are you afraid of?

I thought back to when I had chosen to make Turkey my home. Not married or even engaged to a Turkish man at the time, I had come to İstanbul to learn Turkish, teach English and explore. A young woman on my own, I was a kind of anomaly in Turkey at the time. Like many Americans, I left home at the tender age of 18 to head off to college. Used to being physically distant from my family, I was able to adjust to that part of expat life fairly easily. Living in the school lodgments the first year, I was given a roommate, a capricious Californian close in age who had been a resident of İstanbul for four years. She taught me how to explore, push the boundaries, but how to be safe about it, too.

Every country, every city, even every small town has its own code. There are things that are done or shouldn’t be done, and places that should be avoided at certain times of the day or night. For example, during my first Ramadan in Turkey I was careful not to eat any snacks or simit on the shuttle that would take me to work. It used to take almost an hour for us to get to work in morning traffic, and most of the other teachers and I would nibble on simit or crackers during the commute. Once people started fasting during daylight hours, people didn’t do this anymore and so I followed suit out of respect, even though I wasn’t fasting. I also avoided restaurants during the day, and reserved drinking to a glass of wine or two in the comfort of my own home. Similarly, in my home town in Michigan stores are not allowed to sell alcohol on Sundays. Whether I personally agree with it or not, it is considered a religious day by most of our town, so we respects it and drink at home that day if we feel we need to drink.

Public transport

While İstanbul is considered a very safe city, I quickly learned some important lessons when out and about on my own. When traveling alone on any form of public transport I will usually gravitate towards another woman (preferably older) to either sit or stand next to. She is less likely to try and “accidentally” touch me. If there is no other female on the bus or dolmuş (shared taxi) I generally won’t board, even if that means I will be late. If I do get on, I assess the other male passengers discreetly. If at any point I feel uncomfortable, I get off. Like many women, I have experienced the occasional incident on the bus or subway. Turkish women also are subject to these unwanted and uncomfortable advances, and I watched how they handled them. For Americans, we tend to quietly endure the horror of being touched inappropriately. Combined with the language barrier, we are more powerless and more of a target. Turkish girls scream and yell at even the slightest inappropriate touch. This usually causes anyone near to come to her aid, and the perpetrator is dealt with. They make a scene, and it works to their advantage. I too do this, and it also has worked to my advantage.

Dining alone

I hated eating alone at first, but now enjoy it. As an expat I got used to it pretty fast. While I knew several people in İstanbul when I first moved here, that didn’t mean that their schedules and mine matched. I now enjoy a lazy meal out to myself, savoring a post-meal cup of tea nose deep in a book, with a beautiful Bosporus view. Sometimes, I attract negative attention from other male diners or at times from the wait staff. I will either change my location, or alert the owner. The same rules for public transport apply. If I don’t see any women in the establishment, I usually won’t enter. One popular breakfast spot in Emirgan wrongly assumed that I was a prostitute looking to solicit their customers. Why else would a woman want to have Sunday breakfast alone? After giving them an earful I went to the restaurant next door. To assure that I won’t be bothered, I frequent family-oriented places, advertised as “aile çay bahçesi.” These places are geared towards families, and I am usually spared any awkward scenes.

Covering

This is a common question amongst female visitors and expats in İstanbul. While I have never been treated badly for walking bareheaded in areas that predominantly cover, I still show respect and caution. If I know that I am going to those areas, I will make sure my shirts have a high collar and cover most of my arms. I will wear long pants, and if I choose to wear a skirt, make sure it is past knee length. I am done trying to prove a point with my dress. As an expat, I just want to get from point A to point B as hassle-free as possible and feel I can accomplish that by wearing more modest clothing in some areas. I dress differently when in Taksim or Levent than in Fatih or Aksaray. Even though I have lived in İstanbul for over eight years, the rules have changed little. I trust my instincts and if a place or situation feels uncomfortable, I remove myself. When walking alone at night to my car, I call someone and talk to them while I walk until I am safely in my car or at my destination. I am aware of my surroundings and who is in front or behind me. If I feel like someone is following me, I duck into a store or shop until that real or imagined threat is gone.

I have gotten used to be stared at, but can now differentiate between friendly curiosity and something more.

Despite all the words above about being cautious, I still feel that İstanbul is a much safer city for a woman than most US cities I have lived in or visited. As long as an expat is aware, trusts their instincts without being paranoid and is honest with themselves, they can successfully avoid any major mishaps or discomfort in İstanbul. We live in a crowded city, and it is inevitable that coming into contact with people is a physical part of our daily lives. We can, however, choose which situations we put ourselves in and how to deal with them. Observing locals deal with the same issues has taught me a lot, and I have implemented many of these tips.

My life out and about has gotten much easier in this regard after the birth of my son, as I am now viewed as a mother in Turkish society. Now I get to navigate those tricky new, social and cultural waters.