We Came, We Saw, We Shopped, We Joined a Feminist Parade, by Frances E. FitzGerald



"Buy a carpet!"

We shook our heads no, and the proprietor asked, "But what am I going to do with all these carpets?"

As we walked out of the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul early this afternoon, another carpet vendor said, "You're not carrying any carpets! Is not fair!"


We survived our gift-buying trip, and even talked a few of the vendors into lowering their prices by more than half, thereby reaching the price they probably had in mind in the first place. Laden with T-shirts, Christmas ornaments, scarves, earrings, and more, we returned to the apartment.

Now we're trying to figure out how to pack all this stuff in our carry-ons. I wrapped the scarves around the breakable Christmas ornaments and the T-shirts around the breakable plate we'd bought on our Ephesus trip the other day. I just hope it (and we) all get home in one piece Sunday.

Later, 12:49 a.m. Tom and I walked over to Istiklal, the promenade near our street, and got swept up in a feminist parade. Today is Women’s Day, and thousands of women of all ages carried signs and red and purple flags. We couldn’t understand the Turkish words, but we did see familiar feminist symbols. Although most of the women were bare-headed, one or two wore hijabs. A few men (besides Tom) marched with us, too. The crowd sang and chanted as one and, although we didn’t understand the words, we appreciated the drive behind them. Not even the light mist could dampen their enthusiasm.

We marched with them, Tom taking photos and videos, and came upon a smaller group of men carrying a large sign. This appeared to be a counter-protest, and we saw a few women in that group. (Oh, girls, where is your sense of sisterhood??) However, no violence broke out, although plenty of police lined the sides of Istiklal, ready to jump in.

I was thrilled to see so many feminists, young and old, in Istanbul. I wonder how easy it is to be a feminist in Turkey or any other middle-east country. Even in the U.S., feminists are sometimes demonized as militant, humorless man-haters instead of women (and smart men) seeking professional, political, and personal equality.

How Tom and I felt about leaving Istanbul.
After the parade broke up, Tom and I walked down to Tango Jeans, a multi-story building with dance lessons on the fourth floor and a band playing Greek music on the third floor, where we settled in. At about 10:30 p.m. (way past our usual bedtime), dozens of young people flooded the bar, eventually dancing in a circle. When the dancing morphed into couples, the women’s arms and hands swayed gracefully over their heads, the way belly-dancers use their arms.

When we walked home about 11:45 p.m., the streets were still teeming with people, and several businesses were still open. – This is such a vibrant city, energy and excitement seeping out of its every pore.

Excerpted from T & F in Istanbul, March 8, 2013, https://wardfitzgerald.blogspot.com/2013/03/march-8-we-came-we-saw-we-shopped.html

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