Maybe I shouldn’t be frustrated but I just wrote nan entire blog just to see my iPad freeze an the post disappear. Maybe, but I’m way too excited to share today with you.
You see, though we started off slow, we’d soon end up in he massive mix and chatter of languages, cultures and hearts as we swam our way through the overcrowded Grand Bazaar. And let me tell you, it is Grand. The smells of fresh tea and spices overwhelmed me as we mazed our way from one store to another. And my heart beat wild while we walked back to our hotel just to jump onto another tour of The Sultan’s Mothers’ Mosque, The Spice Market, and a Bosphorus River boat tour of the palaces and bridges linking the old muslim world with the Christian culture opposite side. And I looked in disbelief as the tour guide talked in four languages about these one to one hundred million dollar homes while the waves crashed like peace against the boat. I’m sure my eyes exploded like fireworks in the night as the pictures and beauty flood and overwhelm me. The thought travelled with me as we travelled back to our neighbourhood for dinner. We savoured the Kabobs, fed the street cats and tried to listen to story while the men hammered nails into metal and the Mosque sang over city speakers their prayers. 
And on the long, lost walk home, these small little figure sitting tiny on their knees bellowed loud in their plastic flutes in hope money might drop from higher in their sky into a cardboard box before them.
Perhaps they are Gypsy children, a friend said. Perhaps. Perhaps they are simply helping their family survive. Perhaps. Perhaps they need some love and a snuggle or two.. but then perhaps they get plenty each day.
Though the noise of the cars, busy feet and glowing neon lights never cease my eyes are filled. It’s all so much beauty and chaos in one little day. And all I can see are large palaces and tiny knees. Like fireworks, they flood me.