April 22, 2005

Turkish Delights A shopper’s paradise

By Donna H. Eliason
Staff Writer

“Forty-five hundred stores in one place? That sounds like easy souvenir hunting,” commented my husband Ed as we read our Turkey guidebook about the Istanbul Grand Bazaar.

The fascinating interior of the Istanbul Grand Bazaar.

“A shopper’s paradise,” I smiled, imagining how delightful it would be if all the Bay Area malls merged together here in Evergreen.

A few days later we entered the “Kapalicari”—the covered market entrance into the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul with our tour group. This ancient doorway, constructed by Emperor Theodosius in l492, was one of l6 entrances. We squeezed our way in beside local shoppers and other tourists speaking English, German and Japanese. Men outnumbered women by far among the Turkish shoppers.

Our attention first centered on the high arched colorful ceilings. These continued down corridor after corridor, making it a small city labyrinth that encompassed over 60 streets. The area is well lit by numerous light fixtures perched above the shops. Because of the bazaar size and numerous shoppers, this isn’t a place to get lost. We chose the local police station with its many signs, as our landmark.

Small stores line both sides of the aisles, with merchandise spilling out into the cobblestone pathways. Items hang high above the entrances and piled on tables. Eye contact with a merchant—men only—brought him beside us, encouraging us with bargains if we visited his shop.

Others called from their storefronts, “Wherever you’re going, the shortcut is through my store,” or “Can I help you spend your money?” We were sure all 20,000 employees we read about were at work. One reason for their bold, sometimes brazen attitude is the Bazaar’s extremely high monthly rent.

Colorful scarves, rugs of all sizes and descriptions, soaps, candies, copper, brassware, jewelry, glazed tiles, clothing, coffee, hats, knives and other fascinating treasures lured us into shops where every conceivable space was filled.

Some shop interiors have little room for shoppers because of the vast amount of merchandise, sometimes stacked to the ceiling. The shops are divided into specific specialized areas, such as carpets, silverware, and jewelry.

We didn’t experience the purse, wallet or bag snatchers that we read about, possibly because we traveled off-season and wore jackets.

Ed Eliason bargains with a Turkish businessman about the price of Turkish Delights (candies) in the bazaar.

Waiters hurried by carrying trays of drinks, rice pudding or warm Turkish pastries with tantalizing aromas. People eating tasty sesame rolls, purchased from vendors in covered carts, were walking advertisements. Other vendors sell orange juice squeezed on the spot. Vibrant smells of spiced food permeate the air around the restaurants.

After visiting many shops and checking prices, we were ready to buy.

Since we’d been in Turkey about l0 days, we had some experience with the varieties of circulated money.

We had old Turkish money where a million-dollar bill was worth about 80 U.S. cents, the new Turkish money with many zeroes deleted, American money and the Euro. Tourists have to be careful when they shop, because of the difference in the value of a dollar. We gave each of our five children a gift they didn’t expect—a million dollar bill—in Turkish old money!

We returned to one dealer with piles of Turkish Delight candies outside his store. Merchants expect shoppers to bargain. The given price is the starting point.

“How much for these?” asked Ed holding up two small boxes.

“Better price if you buy more.” The man began gathering several larger boxes. “These are very good. All these for $40.”

“In Turkish dollars or Euros?” Ed smiled, holding up his two candy boxes. “We don’t want to pay that much.” Bartering is his favorite part of shopping.

The two men joked and bartered until the price was reasonable. After we paid in Euros, the man wrapped the candies in Turkish newspaper. While we waited his neighbor came over to tell us about his trip to San Francisco.

We shook hands and left with a Turkish good-bye, “Gule, gule.”

“I think I’m spoiled for life.” I clutched our treasures as we exited the Bazaar. “What an incredible experience.”

“I loved the bargaining,” Ed stuck the change back into his wallet. “But at least in San Jose I know the value of a dollar.”content. For more information, contact Jesse Griffin at (408) 347-7000.