Going to Istanbul was one of the best random decisions I have ever made.
A bit of context: it was 2020, and the world was a mess; lockdowns, quarantine, and fevers, everything came to a halt. Governments all over the world started printing money like there was no tomorrow. Tourism suddenly stopped, and I lost my job as a cook. By July 2020, my visa in Sweden had almost expired, and I had to decide where to spend the next few months. There were only a handful of places open for tourism, and out of them, Turkey was the cheapest and closest. Without hesitation, I bought a one-way ticket (thinking I would be there for just a few months).
I ended up staying for a year and a half.
Istanbul is a city unlike any other. It’s a massive metropolis with over 25 million people, yet great light can be found everywhere. Throughout its history, it seems like people from different empires and religions had a secret agreement to build the city in a way that allowed the light to come through and touch all surfaces, stones, and skins equally. The mixture of cultures and the constant buzzing of the streets warmed my heart after living for so long in Sweden. One can witness different rhythms of life all day long, a city with a heart of its own, pulsating from calm and easy, to frenzy and agitated.
I fell in love with this chaos. This city truly influenced the way I take pictures, as if it had a personality of its own and taught me how to be a better photographer—at every corner, in every texture, in every pocket of light.
There are not many places in the world where ferries are one of the main ways of transportation. The sound of the engines is sometimes loud and penetrating, making it hard to hear your thoughts, while at other times, the engines purr like a sweet cat.
I can't remember how many times I've taken a ferry ride just to calm my mind. At first, I used to hide myself in case one of the ferry workers asked me to hop off. Funny enough, I soon realized I wasn't the only one doing this. Passengers of all ages share the same trick.
Maybe because I grew up close to the sea, I feel drawn to capturing love scenes during my many ferry rides in Istanbul: the nurturing love of a mother, a couple perhaps on their first date, and sometimes the sole love for the sea, seen in eyes lost somewhere on the horizon.
Kolay gelsin! is a commonly used phrase used to greet workers in Turkey.
It translates to "May it come easy to you" and is similar in meaning to "Keep up the good work" or "Have an easy day at work."
You might hear this phrase often, regardless of social status or religious beliefs, and it always makes people smile.
People in Turkey are known for their hard work, and the standard working week is 45 hours long.
And there is always a moment to rest. People in Turkey know how to enjoy life, even in hard times. They can find joy in the simplest of pleasures: a late breakfast, reading a friend’s fortune at the bottom of a cup of Turkish coffee, a ferry ride somewhere, or drinking raki while listening to beautiful folk music. I can’t even remember the number of times I stayed awake until the birds started chirping again.
Of all the places I have had the chance to see in my photography journey, Istanbul holds a special place. From the buzzing streets to the beautiful people I encountered, I consider this city one of my mentors. Sometimes it feels like I lived an entire lifetime in a year. The intensity, perfect chaos, and beauty all have a place in Istanbul’s character and have shaped not only my identity as a photographer but also as a person.
Every photographer and every person should experience this city, it is a mecca for life itself.
Photos & Writing by Eduardo Ortiz
Editing by Mei Seva & Jorge Delgado-Ureña
Your biography should become a movie script some day
It always feels different to see the city you live in through someone else's eyes. But I definitely agree that Istanbul is a great city for a photographer.