How Ramadan May Affect Your Stay In Istanbul?

As a result of Turkey's rich history, many Muslims from around the world have chosen to come to Istanbul as tourists, students and workers. But how does Ramadan here differ from their native countries? For Muslims, Ramadan is a time to devote themselves to God and self-discipline. For me, observing Ramadan rituals in a Muslim country is one of the great travel experiences.

During the daylight hours, it’s polite to refrain from eating, drinking (and even smoking) on the streets or on public terraces. Instead, try to do it inside establishments such as restaurants and cafés. Restaurants are less busy at lunch, the staff will be happy to serve you. 

Not every Muslim fasts during Ramadan. For instance, exemptions are granted to young children, pregnant women, the sick, and the elderly. Tourists will find restaurants and tea shops open throughout the day during Ramadan; it's polite to confine eating and drinking to those establishments, out of respect for — and out of the sight of — people who are fasting.

The happy, multi-generational partying that follows the breaking of the fast at sunset every night is a sight that's not to be missed. After hours of not eating, people are ready to chow down. Many rush home, while others stop for a quick bite at one of many temporary food stands. Restaurants that have been empty all day are suddenly marked by long lines stretching down the street. The city comes alive with shadow puppet theaters, public concerts, and traditional folk dances.

During the evenings, I find myself drawn to the rollicking food fest around the Hippodrome, a park-like square (formerly a Roman chariot racetrack) in the center of the Old Town. The Blue Mosque's courtyard turns into a huge market with religious books, computer programs, and even teen wear for sale. Young girls make head scarves fashionable. Sticky treats shine under swinging lamps. Turkish coffee burbles in copper kettles buried deep in red coals. Hourglass-shaped tea glasses are the perfect fit for Turkish hands. Seeing the twinkling lights strung up in honor of Ramadan, I think, "Charming — they've draped Christmas lights between the minarets." Then I realize that a Turk might come to my house in December and say, "Charming — he's draped Ramadan lights on his Christmas tree."