If you asked me to describe my street in Adapazari, there is little that I could tell you, on sight it is really pretty ordinary and not much to tell about, but if you where to ask me to describe the sounds of my street then I can tell you exactly how my street sounds.
First thing in the morning before the start of the busy day begins, the resident pigeons coo softly while sunbathing on the roofs and the little sparrows chirp away, then you start to hear the soft murmur of people having their breakfast, and chink of tea spoons against tea glasses and the scrape of forks on plates.
As the day begins the street sellers come along, first is normally the Simitci, shouting in his deep voice while peddling his bike “O’Simitci, O’Simitci”, selling fresh simit, which the ladies lower down their buckets on a piece of rope to get the fresh simit for the day.
The next along is the Eskici shouting “Eskici” almost sounding like he is sneezing as he shouts out looking for scrap metal and plastic to be collected.
Then comes the fruit and vegetable sellers pushing their carts, peddling their bikes, some have bike horns that go honk honk, while they shout out Sogan, Domates, Patates. Again the ladies will shout down and ask the price and lower their buckets to receive their purchases. Some of the more fancy fruit and veg sellers come round in their vans with their loud speaker and music shouting out what they are selling that day.
The ladies of the apartment start up their work and you hear the hum of hovers and the cracking of carpets as they are shook out over the balconies, then as the ladies finish their work one or two will stop and rest on their balconies and chatter with their neighbours.
Once or twice a week you hear a familiar chime played over a loud speaker, this is the Mobilya sellers with their vans full of household goods from pots and pans to bed wear for sale.
Throughout the day you hear the Cami or Mosque the familiar beep beep as the loud speakers are turned on the Imam begins shouting out his call to prayer.
As the day goes on the street sellers disappear and the kids take over the street, it’s a great sound of them playing in the street, the boys playing football and the girls with their hopscotch and those that have bikes ride up and down the street having races and shouting and laughing with joy.
Then as night falls the street takes on stillness again, and you are again begin to hear the soft murmur of voices as the day comes to an end and the residents sit out on their balconies chatting and the sound of the chink of teas glasses resounds around the street again.
And as the night draws in slowly the noise of those on the balconies disappears and you are left with the soft silent peacefulness of night.
As ordinary as our street may be if you close your eyes and listen to the sounds you soon find that our street is not so ordinary.
© 2011 – 2015, Kerry Arslan. All rights reserved.