Turkish lamps are touted as a tourist must-buy, each one a unique souvenir from the city, but the sameness confused me.
You see them everywhere – hanging bouquets of technicolored iridescence, boasting stripes and whorls and chevrons picked out in mosaic, the bulbous glass tapering off into intricate metal points. Storefronts burst with color as the lamps that hang from eaves or sit on shelves overflow onto the street, jostling for the tourists’ attention with their eye-dizzying colors.
At first glance, the variety of exotic-looking goods on display is bewildering; Turkish lamps flood every souvenir shop in the city, displayed alongside gaily-painted ceramics, printed shawls, and photographs of dervishes. Perhaps most popular of all are the blue and white evil eyes mounted on jewelry, t-shirts, mugs, shot glasses and handbags, warding off every possible danger that might befall you on your journeys.
Entranced as I was by the colors, the detail and the light, it didn’t take long for bewilderment to set in – the lamps are bedazzling to behold, but they were all bedazzling. After carefully looking at countless designs and comparing a multitude of color schemes, my feeble attempts to choose just one was quickly overwhelmed by how similar they all looked at the end of the day. Turkish lamps are touted as a tourist must-buy, each one a unique souvenir from the city, but the sameness confused me, as did all of the other objects I saw in the tourist markets.
“Sameness” is exactly the opposite of what the city represents. Istanbul, Constantinople, Byzantium…no matter what you choose to call it, it’s impossible to deny the richness of the city’s past and present. Historically, geographically and culturally, Istanbul has been a city of incredible wealth and diversity, a global marketplace where all the people of the world gathered to barter, sell and exchange their goods. Yet today, the Grand Bazaar is a warren of tourist kitsch, luring visitors in with a vibrant sameness that constantly threatens to obscure subtler treasures hidden far down Istanbul’s back alleys.
Istanbul revels in the sights, the colors and the smells that tourists know and love – encouraging the sense of exotic orientalism that both a plague and a boon to the image of the city. The dervishes, carpets and evil eyes that represent the ancient capital bring in tourists’ wealth, but it also creates a shimmering haze of neo-Ottoman glory that is difficult for travelers to penetrate. The real, grittier, dustier Istanbul is there, in all of its roiling diversity; step outside the souvenir store and you’re already halfway there.
Article written by Asia Chiao.
