The beloved Orient

It´s almost impossible to listen to the Istanbul Oriental Ensemble sitting. Keeping the feet still, the shoulders from twitching. The sounds are very familiar. The sweetness of the violin, the lament of the clarinet, expressions of the soul of the Orient. And I was once again in Istanbul, the 'old beloved'. I could see the melancholic Bosphorus, I would find myself lost in the beehive of Capali Carsi (closed market), I could taste apple tea and sweet baklava, I would feel the nonchalance in the air of the narrow streets in a hot summer afternoon, I could hear the orthodox and the muslims praising god. The Orient is lament, nonchalance and longing.