Istanbul (not Constantinople)

I’ve received a variety of responses when I tell people I’m studying abroad in Istanbul this semester. I got a lot of “that’s unique," quite a few “I hear that’s a really fun city,” some “isn’t that dangerous?,” and even a couple “where’s that?." But I think by far the most common reply has been neither a statement nor a question, but instead the opening line to a song: Istanbul (not Constantinople) written by Jimmy Kennedy.

Hearing friends and acquaintances sing this song confused me at first. I have to admit I’d never heard the song, so when a friend of mine starting reciting the lyrics, I thought she was improvising a ditty about Istanbul and I was a little weirded out. After the next few instances of this I realized it must be a well-known song. This was an excellent discovery because it meant I no longer had to respond with a blank stare and a half-hearted chuckle, meanwhile thinking “I have the strangest friends…”; instead, I could simply say, “yeah, like the song!”

Since people kept bringing up this song, it began to pop into my head every time I heard the word Istanbul (now I know where my friends were coming from). First I thought it was sort of a stupid premise for a song—yes, Jimmy Kennedy you are correct, the city formerly known as Constantinople is now referred to as Istanbul. But then it occurred to me to be an interesting distinction. The name Constantinople connotes, at least for me, a medieval city steeped in ancient history and conflict. Istanbul, on the other hand, brings to mind a bustling, modern city teetering both physically and culturally between Europe and the Middle East. In other words, the two names mean different things for me; they evoke different emotions. One city is old and meaningful and has a wistful nature to it. The other city is new and exciting, with a touch of adventure and discovery.

            I have a lot of family history in this city, especially at the school where I will be studying—Bogazici University (University of the Bosporus). Bogazici University used to be called Robert College, which served as both a high school and a college. My dad went to high school here before heading off to Hamilton College. After graduating Hamilton, he returned to Robert College to teach English. My grandfather also attended Hamilton College and went to Istanbul to teach at Robert College, where he met my grandmother whose family had lived in Turkey for generations. Her father (my great-grandfather) taught at Robert College. That makes me the fourth generation to be at Bogazici University and the third generation at Hamilton College. Talk about legacy.

            After acknowledging the visceral difference I experience between the two names Constantinople and Istanbul, it occurred to me that this distinction is reminiscent of my own relationship to Istanbul. It’s not a perfect parallel, but I do have an almost misplaced nostalgia for my family history in Istanbul and that era; however, I’m also going to be having my own experience in this city decades after my father and my other various ancestors lived there. New meets old (no offense dad). Modernity intersects antiquity just the way the two names, Istanbul and Constantinople, overlap to combine histories and cultures.  

            What does this mean for me on a day-to-day basis? I have no idea. I guess we’ll have to wait and see. It gives me something to reflect on between mouthfuls of baklava.