Love Being a Basket Case

Two cold Efes beers make the trip up about 75 feet.

One of the unfortunate truths about living in a 21^st century metropolis is the disconnect we have from our natural environment, ergo, we buy our vegetables from a store, we exercise in planned parks or gyms, we travel by various modes of transportation that all involve high levels of engineering, or at least cement under our feet.

Istanbul is no exception. One nice thing about Istanbul, though, that makes me feel more like I’m living as a fairy tale serf on a European farm is the sepet – or basket, in English. We live on the 4^th floor (or fifth floor by American measurement). When we need something from a street seller, or a corner-store owner, or a delivery guy on a motor scooter, we can simply lower a wicker basket connected to a rope, down the 75 feet or so, to the street level (careful, don’t get rope burn!).

The seller/vendor takes the money for the simit (Turkish bagel), poaca (flaky pastry) beer (beer), kebap, etc., that is in the basket, and replaces it with said product, sometimes with a shout of “afiyet olsun!” (bon appétit). Then, arm over arm, we lift the food or booze up back through our window.

It’s ironic that this measure of extreme convenience (or sometimes plain laziness) actually makes me feel old world.  I think it has to do primarily for the hand-over-hand raising of the basket, which somehow reminds me of drawing water from a covered well, Jack and Jill style, to satiate my hunger or thirst. I feel as though I am working to draw some bounty from the earth, not unlike picking a carrot, or mining for some granite, even though I am lowering a basket bought at an Ikea-type store, down to a guy who puts whatever I am getting into a plastic bag. That thing I am buying may be made at some factory bakery or brewing conglomerate. But no matter.

Maybe this is why we have tatilsepeti.com (“vacation basket,” the owners of which I give English lessons to) and yemeksepeti.com (food basket) an online restaurant delivery site.

No wonder Turks have baskets on the brain.