from SUNDAY diary (5)

THE SIMPSONS, DEAD SULTANS, TROUBLE IN PARADISE, BITTER TEA, WARM GUTS

my friend refers to Bursa as "Springfield," because like in The Simpsons, it has 2 prominent power plant stacks across the valley. I don't think it's really nuclear though.

at another cafe thinking about that overlooking the city. i'm next to the tombs of Osman and Orhan Gazi, founder and expander of the Ottoman Empire. there's a tall clock tower here too. a couple is fighting in a familiar way. guy says something dumb. girl gets angry. guy tries to laugh it off and touch girl's arm. girl backs away. apologies to follow.

looking out on Altiparmak St. Bursaspor Stadium, the Black Tower ominous, snowy limbs of crooked trees. my food and tea order mechanically and joylessly taken, servers either apathetic or long embittered by tourists and giggling lovers enjoying their romantic spot. there is splat crack of ice melting, dropping on the cobbles, which are dark from the water. i see the couple made up and easy-breezy strolling again.

tea comes, tost comes. yes I spelled that right. they both warm my insides. a man staring at me, maybe distrusting, maybe doesn't know if I'm a critic coming to defame the venue. if he keeps staring at me with that look maybe i will aspire to.