Meet Me in the Evening for a Kiss in Taksim Square

Abstract

It was an afternoon in July of 2013. Umut came to my studio in Tophane with goggles he had bought in Eminönü. He said, ‘these are to protect our eyes’. We went out. Before climbing the steep Italian hill, we stopped by Yaso’s studio. She gave each of us two plastic bottles of water, mixed with acid reflux medication. What does one do with water mixed with Rennie at a protest in Taksim? I don’t remember from which corner we sneaked onto Istiklal. What I remember is that a plastic bullet tore the crowd in two. And all the rest of the bullets, skipping across our bodies, tear gas, sweat, panic, pushing, tear gas, bullets, sirens ... Umut and I didn’t let go of each other’s hands. We learned that Rennie heals the burnings of tear gas. And we didn’t die that summer.1