The rain storm this morning brings out the smells of the neighborhood. Climbing up the hill from the Italian Consulate, a fetid stink affronts my nose. Cats lounge in the shade as their kittens stand in flower pots. Could the smell be from the cats? Maybe the cats shit behind the sheet metal doors next to the Ecuadorian Consulate. Their bright, beady eyes and furry, overlapping paws makes me forgive and forget any odor in their alley.
People take cover from the light drizzle. A stranger smokes on the doorsteps under the balcony overhang of my house. Please move, sir, so I may enter my house. I feel stinky myself after walking through his cloud of smoke. Awkward. In Amsterdam I once read the sign, "Please do not smoke weed on the bench, children sleeping upstairs." I wish I could put up a similar sign, "Please do not light up here. Trying to breathe."
Rain does clear up the most offensive smells. The acrid, noisome stench of tear gas lingers for days without rain. Only rain rinses the air and washes the streets clean again. Heavy rain keeps large crowds away from protests. Maybe more rain could keep the streets calm and air clean in Istanbul.
People take cover from the light drizzle. A stranger smokes on the doorsteps under the balcony overhang of my house. Please move, sir, so I may enter my house. I feel stinky myself after walking through his cloud of smoke. Awkward. In Amsterdam I once read the sign, "Please do not smoke weed on the bench, children sleeping upstairs." I wish I could put up a similar sign, "Please do not light up here. Trying to breathe."
Rain does clear up the most offensive smells. The acrid, noisome stench of tear gas lingers for days without rain. Only rain rinses the air and washes the streets clean again. Heavy rain keeps large crowds away from protests. Maybe more rain could keep the streets calm and air clean in Istanbul.