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449 April 8- Istanbul The poverty of the city, its life & people are evident without even knowing the facts. One has only to see how the people dress, behave in the streets & cafés, the drab aspect of the clothing of the people, the mad, unpredictable plan of the city, with its hidden corners, the surprise every turn offers to the eye. The pastry shops (every city has its own character,) display the tempting baked pastries, yogurts & sweetmeats. Crowds walking to work across the bridge, traffic jammed, the black market of the local currency offering 6.50 instead of the official 2.80, betraying the uncertainty & instability of the life here. It is a miracle how cars & huge buses drive at breakneck speed down the steep inclines of the narrow streets with their sudden turns. In the afternoon, I visited with Dr. Chitty, the old Bazaar. Cold, damp, old archways, cobblestones - where one finds antiques, rugs, 450 April 8 Istanbul. wonderful embroideries, furs, jewelry, etc. Everywhere, the shop keepers (as all thru the East) popped out of their shops to invite us in. (Importune, is more like it). Also drove about the city. The old, massive mosques, many domed & spired, their old stones silhouetted against the grey sky, the grey streets with notes of red flags & dull green of the trees - The buildings in the suburbs resemble those in other lands - with the exception of the surprise note of color grey stone, interspersed with red & white, grey buildings, with cobalt blue ceramic decorations, a snow white Mosque in center of town, [[strikethrough]] with [[/strikethrough]] in the square, with delicate traceries of Moslem Art all over its surfaces. As usual, I was enchanted. In the evening to the Crystal Dance Hall. A glorified, Istanbul Latin Quarter. A large, drab hall, with uncovered electric bulbs, lighting it - Hundreds of men seated about, here & there a respectable family or couple. Several street women - many dyed
