Hey all. Listen, I know I owe you the sordid tales of Split and Belgrade, but I've been in Istanbul for the last howevermany days, and I'm feeling much more moved to tell you all about it. Yarns of hotel rooms by-the-hour and eternal train rides with toothless Bulgarians are forthcoming, I swear. But for now, sit back, have a glass of tea, and let me tell you some more recent stories, beginning with this one, about the market... Markets, at least in my neck of the woods, are now sterile, placidly fluorescent places that betray no whisper of the origins of their wares. Historically, however, markets have a reputation for being quite dangerous, full of peril and the risk of being had. First, you see, as a shopper, you place your faith in the hands
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