in the bazaar

"FIVE EURO!" the shopkeeper bellows, almost into my ear. Well, my own fault as I stopped right by his shop while he is trying to attract attention from the people milling about the street market.

Other vendors are yelling about their products as well, mostly in Turkish. It's the Friday market in the bazaar quarters and the narrow streets are crowded with stalls selling fruit, vegetables, spices and knick-knacks. The spring sun is warm but not too hot, and most of the stallkeepers look exactly like you imagine a Turkish grandma coming in from her farm to sell her aubergines and oranges. I almost step on a live chicken lying tied up on the ground and quickly avert my eyes.

I stand on a corner, next to the loud shopkeeper, and discreetly change the battery in my camera. Trying to not look like a tourist, failing abysmally.