Istanbul is a jungle...

I've been here long enough that much of the shiny-newness of this city has rubbed off. It might be that I need a break from the extant stupidity I've dealt with over the last several months, but I really think that time, in any place, tends to do that. The colors dull, the novelty rubs off, and then there is the routine of sleep, work, play, repeat...

That's why meeting people, who are new to the city, can be really refreshing. They seem both childishly fascinated with this new place, and woefully naive of its pitfalls.

One such person, a Belgian I shared beers with on Monday, felt Istanbul offered an escape. Europe, as he explained it, was bureaucratic, over-regulated, and repressive. Istanbul offers him freedom, relaxed controls, and something wild.

"Istanbul is like a jungle," he said to me, "but Belgium was a zoo."

I haven't thought, in some time, of dependable infrastructure or safe traffic practices as signs of control... but I've also dealt with the lack thereof for nearly four years.

I appreciated his perspective. It was a reminder. At the same time, as I've aged, and protection from needless injury or unlawful treatment has become an increasing concern, I begun behaving as though Istanbul is indeed, a jungle. I'm no streetwise thug, but I believe this jungle has wrought changes that have made me a tougher, slightly more cunning, and more aggressive and empowered.

I'm not certain that all of these qualities are good things, in and of themselves.

Jungle or zoo, if nothing else, this city is definitely not Jacksonville...