Global is the new local

Day 88 of the project,
Tesvikiye neighborhood of Istanbul, Turkey

In the digital age of constant global connectivity, most travelers (myself included) are seeking the "authentic" cultural experience. We want the full sensory overload: the sights (the architecture, shops and museums); the tastes (spicy, sweet, salty, savory, boozy); the heart and soul (language, religion and customs). We want this to be untainted with any of the familiarity of home. And above all, we want to engage with the locals.

In this cosmopolitan place where Europe meets Asia, secular meets religious and old meets new, I expected to easily escape the tourist traps in Istanbul. That is not to say I didn't enjoy the tourist circuit. I spent hours roaming the Istanbul Modern and Pera Museum and staring at the gorgeous tiles and calligraphy inside the mosques. I tried my hand at negotiations inside the bazaars. My stomach certainly engaged with the local cuisine. And my caffeine levels are at an all time high from the copious consumption of Turkish coffee and tea.

Though after three and a half days, I needed a break from the bustling crowds and a non-smoking coffee shop for South Africa research. A Google search recommended the Ministry of Coffee in an upscale neighborhood about 30 minutes from my hostel. It was perfect...I plotted my escape from the tourist masses in favor of a local haunt. Upon arrival I was initially disappointed. MOC is a hipster mecca; the coffee is cold-brewed and fair trade, the attire is skinny jeans and thick-rimmed glasses. If you hit the mute button on the Turkish language, I could be in Brooklyn. I wanted my projection of authentic Istanbul.

But perhaps that is the irony; this is the real Turkey. MOC is packed with locals talking over coffee and working on their laptops. It is the first place in Istanbul where the waitstaff spoke so little English that I had to gesture for my order. The globalization of aesthetics means that the authentic local experience looks and tastes much more like home than anticipated. It is true in Istanbul and has been true every other modern city in South America and Europe. I suspect it will be much the same on other continents.

So do I have a right to be disappointed in the hipsterized "local" experience? Should I accept that my projections of authenticity can be and often are a caricature? Is the globalization that allows me to find these local places bringing an end to individuality?

I'm not sure there is a simple answer to these questions. And I am certainly not accounting for the impact of religion and socioeconomic status (designer handbags are favored over hijabs in this part of the city). Our common tastes makes it easier to connect, understand and break down negative stereotypes. Sure it means the world is getting smaller. But I believe it increases our chances for peaceful living. And if nothing else, the globalized authentic experience means I can ask the Turkish girl next to me about her adorable sweater (Zara, of course) while sipping a delicious organic Ethiopian blend.