The Crone

For as often as I make the pilgrimage between here and there, I'm sure I cross paths with some of the same people more than once but never notice them either because they blend into the crowd, or I'm not paying attention. There is one woman, however, whom I have seen on half a dozen occasions and for whom I've kept an eye out for the past few years. She's hard to miss, but not for her great size. I have no idea what her age is, but it's very, very old. If she could stand up straight, she might reach my nose, but as she's nearly doubled over at the waist, she comes up to just below my shoulder. Because she's old and hunched over, she has a very slow and awkward gait. Despite her lack of speed and mobility, and with her backside swinging slowly from side to side, she fearlessly makes her way across the street regardless of the color of the light, and as often as not, stops traffic for a moment or two. Once, I helped her carry her bags across the street and made sure she got on her bus without mishap. Another time, I sat next to her for several stops. She told me about her heart and blood pressure problems, smiling, as if she were talking about good weather.

I hadn't seen her for a while and sometimes wondered if she was still amongst the living. While returning from the Spice Bazaar recently, the tram at Eminönü stopped, doors open, much longer than usual. Those of us who had craned our necks to see of there was a problem soon realized that the hold-up was due to my favorite crone being guided onto the train by a kind stranger. I say crone with affection, and because she is covered from head to toe in black, skirt, blouse, large head scarf longer than a nun's, with face and hands exposed. Immediately, a seat was vacated for her. She spoke to no one and everyone, her sharp chin jutted, her tongue seemingly too large for her mouth from of her lack of lower teeth. All eyes were on her as she dramatically flapped her thickened, claw- like hands. "I was so scared, oh I was so scared!" And yet, she had that talking-about-the-beautiful-weather smile on her face. Several women approached her to ask where she was going, a question she either didn't hear or didn't care to answer directly. Between her declarations of fear, she must have said something funny because half of the people in the tram car laughed. The women insisted and volunteered to accompany her.

As she exited the bus, with one woman on each side to support her, I watched to make sure she reached her bus. As usual, she crossed the street with her very kind strangers against a red light and stopped traffic for a few moments.