Indian Shame in Turkey

Fireworks were exploding over Sultanahmet square in Istanbul, once we strolled back after dinner. It was our last night in Turkey, a nation that had thrown many surprises our way, all of them pleasant. The definition of Turkish delight could be placed on more compared to sweets that we were enjoying on a daily basis. From the seaside promenade of İzmir Eskort to the ancient wonders of Ephesus, the underground city in Cappadocia to the multi-cultural Istanbul, we'd enjoyed our holiday in myriad ways. The good-looking and fashionably dressed Turkish men and women exhibited a vivacity, that has been as fascinating while the vast variety of sights we'd seen.

The evening had begun with a leisurely and somewhat long walk in the direction of the Marmara coast. Strolling through a slightly more rundown and non-touristy element of Istanbul, as evidenced by the overflowing garbage bins and littered streets, we crossed a bridge which took us on the railway tracks reaching the Kennedy Caddesi, a road which follows the coastline. We walked along this road for almost an hour and a half, enjoying the balmy breeze and lovely view. Istanbul natives were enjoying their weekend, the men casting their fishing tackles in the Marmara Sea hoping to obtain lucky, while women roasted succulent kebabs on a tandoor.

The littered park, indigenous hawkers and graffiti-covered walls were reminiscent of our home-city of Mumbai, making us feel us right in the home!

Doubling back the direction of Sultanahmet square, it had been growing dark once we decided to prevent and have dinner. Over a glass of wine and kebabs, we raised a toast to the holiday. Turkey was definitely a destination to be recommended, we reflected.

It was almost ten o'clock, once we reached the square opposite the Blue Mosque, whose serenely lighted facade was clearly seen in the night. We settled down on a bench to view the fireworks. We were debating perhaps the birds we saw in startled flight on the square were seagulls, when a girl around twenty approached us.
"Umm, can I join you on the bench?" she asked, "Just until I finish my sandwich?" She indicated the wrapped sandwich in her hand.

Laura beamed at me. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "I've always wished to see India."

Pleased to know this, I said, "It is a vast and beautiful country."

Laura nodded, "I had planned to see India this year. But my friends cancelled their holiday at the final minute. I am traveling alone. So, our embassy advised me to not travel to India, because it's unsafe for women."

We digested this information in silence and some consternation.

It was, indeed, true that female tourists are increasingly being dissuaded from traveling to the country. The statistics for rape and assault on females İzmir Eskort is among the highest in India. The capital city of India, New Delhi has one of the very horrifying statistics and gruesome cases on record. There were instances when I felt unsafe about traveling alone during the night in my own city of Mumbai or using public transport at odd hours. Tourists traveling alone, especially female, run a threat of being harassed, molested or attacked due to the attitude of some Indian men, who view lone women as easy prey.

Laura looked over me, perhaps wondering at my continued silence and insufficient spirited refuting of her statement.

She continued, "So I chose to see Turkey, instead of India."

Indeed, we'd felt safe in Turkey, despite traveling in a tiny group of three. Our head into an unfashionable element of Istanbul have been an example. In every way, the littered park had reminded us of home except for the attitude towards female tourists. Traveling at all hours in Turkey, we'd never felt the gaze of men degrade from polite enquiry or friendliness, to one of a lewd nature. We had encounter many women traveling alone or in pairs and certainly never heard about any incident that would have alarmed us.