Having officially blown past the one-month marker of my time in Turkey, I’m finally starting to feel less like a wide-eyed tourist and more like a short-term resident of Istanbul — a key distinction, I can assure you. One of the most obvious indicators is my ability to take on Taksim Square without feeling completely overwhelmed.

With its busy, cosmopolitan atmosphere, Taksim Square is a center of leisure, culture and political importance, even considered by some to be the heart of modern Istanbul. Though it’s technically the road leading up to the Square, Istiklal Caddesi, Independence Avenue and the off-shooting side streets that hold hundreds of bars, restaurants and stores, one simply refers to the entire area as Taksim.

The first time that I went to Taksim at night, I remember being stunned by the sheer number of people squeezing past each other in every direction. Local shops and larger chains alike beg the youthful teens, handholding lovers, families and individuals to come in and spend their lire. And when the sun goes down, the Taksim crowd livens up. The area is like Marshall Street amped up to the nth degree.

Besides the sit-down cafes and restaurants, the lilting calls of the street peddlers pushing popcorn, nuts, mussels or slightly charred, excessively salted corn create a symphony of culinary temptation. Bliss is ending the night wolfing down a “wet hamburger,” a sloppy-Joe-esque delicacy that costs only the two lire that can still be scrounged from pockets after a successful night of drinking.

I’ve spent several nights at a grungy bar called 404 that my friends and I can count on for raucous Turkish sing-alongs and cheap shots. The singing I can still only observe at this point, though I’m determined to learn the words to a few of the most unifying pop songs, and the drinks have earned 404 the affectionate nickname “Purell Palace.”

Taksim can satiate all different nightlife appetites, though. Some side streets — splashed with shifting Technicolor light — are so packed with people spilling out of dance clubs that they’re nearly impossible to walk down. There are hookah-hazed cafes tucked down alleys. A ritzy club called 360 earns attendees a view of the Bosphorus from the penthouse of a 19th-century apartment building.

Not all my time in Taksim has been spent eating, drinking and shopping, though.

This past weekend I visited an antique book festival where I pawed through hundreds of musty old novels, textbooks, biographies and magazines. Two theaters squished between shops and jewelry stores just hosted an international film festival. I recently meandered through an art exhibition hosted by a cultural nonprofit called SALT.

Though I admittedly appreciate the physical aesthetic of modern art more often than I understand the meaning, the gallery’s collection — which included an array of striking black-and-white photographs, a film of two men unabashedly dancing to a jangling beat and a series of short, grotesque narratives printed upon one wall — was nonetheless thought-provoking.

Taksim’s visibility and accessibility have also made it an ideal venue for political protest. Because of the recent escalation of tension at the border between Syria and Turkey, Turkish citizens held anti-war demonstrations across the country last Thursday night, with the largest demonstration taking place in Taksim. Thousands of people marched, sang and poked protest signs at the night sky. Chants of “No to war! Peace now!” swallowed up all other sound. I’d never encountered such a large protest before, and the sight was inspiring, though intimidating enough to keep my friends and me hanging back, watching from inside a doorway.

Despite my myriad Taksim adventures, and although it’s now possible for me to meander down the street without my mouth agape in wonder, I’m still months away from exploring even one-half of what the area has to offer. I can’t wait to see what else I have to discover.

Jillian D’Onfro is a senior magazine journalism and information management and technology dual major. Her column appears every Tuesday. She can be reached at jidonfro@syr.edu.

Published on October 9, 2012 at 2:59 am