Fifth Journey Day 122: Shadow of the Spoon

"Shadow of the Spoon" — A sliver of metal held like a moon over tea-stained light; Gaziantep settles into the hush between sips.

Date: September 7, 2025
Location: Gaziantep, Turkey

In Gaziantep, Turkey, late-summer heat drifts through copper workshops and pistachio markets, while tea houses offer shade from the dust-laced breeze. Today’s page rests in that pause between travel and arrival.

Late Summer Light in Gaziantep

Today felt like a turning point, not fully decided, not fully wandering. I started to feel like a part of Gaziantep when I went into a tea house. The doorway was shaded, and it looked normal, but inside, it felt like there was a slow heartbeat. The tables were old, and the dark wood was smooth from being touched by many people. I ordered a small glass of tea. It was amber and sharp, and it was served on a saucer with a spoon. The spoon tapped against the porcelain whenever someone stirred the tea without paying attention.

Quiet Moments at a Tea House

The voices around me were low and steady. The gestures were familiar — some men leaned forward with half-smiles, while others paused to glance at the street. I realized that I didn't need to understand the words to feel the weight of their pauses, the way silence hung between sips. It reminded me of painting because even when there's nothing there, you can still convey a lot with it.

The Scent of Bread and Roasted Nuts

The steam rose upward, and I watched it. I imagined the lines I would draw with my pen. The glass left a ring on the table, faint and imperfect, and I felt like I wanted to save it — not as it was, but as a memory, a sign of stillness that could be remembered by sound and smell. Outside, the air carried bread and roasted nuts, a warm note in the dust.

Choosing Stillness Over Sketching

I didn't do much today, but that felt right. My body wanted to relax, and the city made it possible. Even though there was noise outside, there was a moment of quiet listening.

A City Listening to Its Borders

I thought about Syria, just behind me, and how the border crossings blend together until all that remains is a feeling of air, of dust, of voices in transition. Tonight, we remember not the whole city, but one special moment: the steam rising from tea, which vanishes but leaves warmth in our hands. That, perhaps, is enough for arrival.

Travel Notes

• Weather: Warm sunlight with a dry breeze, 28°C; faint dust in the air and a comfortable, unhurried heat.
• Scents: Fresh bread from nearby ovens, roasted pistachios and nuts, tannic tea, and the soft polish of old wood.
• Sounds: Spoon tapping porcelain, low steady voices, occasional street calls drifting in from the doorway.
• Reflection: A small turning point marked by a tea-glass ring — arrival measured not by miles, but by warmth left in the hands.

Continue the Journey

You may also enjoy wandering through another Turkish moment in Fourth Journey Day 157: Market Fragments from Istanbul — fragments of a market day held together by sound, color, and breath.