The currency’s plummeting is vertiginous, and there is an air of fear, of not knowing what comes, of dread and powerlessness all around. It’s hard to see how it will end, but no one seems to think the end will be anything other than a generation cast into poverty.
It’s remarkable how prices have changed. Our water delivery, for instance, has gone from under 20 lira to almost 30 in the space of a year. Apple, I hear, simply stopped selling their goods for a while because of the volatility of the currency. Our carpenter tells us that he can’t source foam, an imported item, because the importers don’t want to sell in case the price drops again. People genuinely look worried. We live in a touristy part of town, so there are many foreigners around, but I feel like Turkish voices are far sparser in restaurants and cafes than they were.
The weakest suffer most. The poorest Turks, of course, but also the refugees who are increasingly resented.
One wonders if the lodos wind was a sign of what is to come.