I’m in Turkey, at a performance of whirling dervishes, the mystical adherents of the Sufi tradition. Whoever arranged the evening clearly had a keen eye for the exalted and dignified nature of the dance when selecting the venue. Unfortunately, the place they chose was obviously double booked as the evening went ahead in a cavernous room off Platform 1 of Istanbul Central Station. It’s a good job I turned left when I arrived and not right or I would have been on the Evening Express to Ankara and would have missed the show entirely.
Four rows of chairs encircled a central stage with several large signs asking patrons to refrain from using flash photography during the performance. It was in English but to make sure other nationalities also understood the message it was repeated verbally, also in English but in a loud and slow voice. As everyone knows all Jonny Foreigners understand that.
So the evening started with a Sufi orchestra playing twangy sounds and wailing a bit. After what seemed to be a good few hours of that, the dancers arrived, dressed in white cloaks with big hats. They were good. Very good. And before long people in the audience were rising to take photographs. Then it happened.
Just along from me, someone used flash. Immediately, a large Turkish woman moved over to give the sorry miscreant a good kicking and remind her – in an even louder voice but still in English – NO FLASH!
Everyone tutted. Since the reprobate was American, she obviously protested her innocence at great length. Doubtless she’d also be suing for her later therapy bill. Whatever, Princess.
Then it happened again. Same result. This person also protested their innocence, pointing out that their camera didn’t have a flash. As if.
It was then that I decided to take a photograph. Carefully setting the flash to off, I was surprised when, just as I clicked, a large flash of light appeared. The large Turkish woman moved in, everyone tutted, and I protested my innocence.
My back was now up. I had been falsely accused. For someone with Aspergers, this is not good. Someone was going to pay.
It didn’t take long to work out what was happening. A woman with a large camera and an even bigger flash was prowling the crowd, waiting for someone to stand up to take a photograph. Then she would sneak up behind them and take her own with her enormous flash before walking quickly away to avoid detection.
Next time she did it I was onto her. As the camera flash alerted the large Turkish woman to come running, I whipped out of my seat and into action. Several people were between me and the woman. No worry; they were bowled to one side like skittles. By now I was calling to large Turkish woman to catch up. Once more person to fling out of the way and I had my quarry. I didn’t exactly grab her around the throat but, let’s just say, she wasn’t going anywhere. I waited for my cavalry to arrive.
The large Turkish woman duly arrived and dispensed the kicking. Hell this was good. It felt like Dodge City. Except that the entire room was now looking at me. Those nearest edged backwards and even the twangy music seemed a little higher pitched. Heck, there was even a tut. I smiled wanly and returned to my seat. We superheroes never get any gratitude.
