“Can I invite you for a tea? It is on the house”. While I am shooting some struggling half-dead fish at the fish-market next to the Galata bridge in Istanbul, my mom – who just arrived a couple of hours ago – is already invited to sit somewhere for some tea. The guy shows her his little piece of land and invites her to have a seat on one of the small chairs around the little tables.

They start a conversation about fish, mixing English, German and Dutch. The guy is showing my mom proudly his kitchen and explains her how he could prepare her the sardines I am shooting. “But they are still alive”, my mom says and adds that she has no appetite yet. “You can always come back tomorrow for the fish”, he smiles back to her, “but the tea is still on the house”, Continue reading