From the Center of the (Post-American) World

I’ve been in a number of places this year that felt like, in one way or another, the center of the world. I commented in a previous post how London — with its multiplicity of tongues and immigrant communities — felt more like that place than New York. I haven’t yet written about Jerusalem, where I was last August, but with the unparalleled history of that city, and the sense that the eyes of the world are on it, it felt like the center of the world, too.

But all three of those cities right now seem to be topped for this mythical title by the international departure terminal at Istanbul’s Ataturk International Airport, from which I am writing this post. I’m here at 10 pm local time, waiting for a connection to Hong Kong, and planes are departing literally for all corners of the globe — Africa, Asia, the Middle East, Europe, the Americas. Istanbul is itself, of course, situated on the border of Europe and Asia, and itself has quite a good historical claim to that “world center” status. The people around me in the terminal probably come closer to a statistical representation of the human race than anywhere else I’ve been (minus much representation from Africa). Lots of Asians, lots of Europeans, some Americans, many from the Middle East. Most people in Western dress, some women in traditional Muslim attire. (When I was here a few years ago, I counted how many women walking in downtown Istanbul were wearing burkas, and it was about 50/50.)

So what’s it like being at the center of the world, thousands of miles from New York or London? To go all Tom Friedman for a minute, it at least feels like this is where the action is happening. Being here makes me think that we are living in a post-American world–where others have taken American inventions and done them better. The terminal is completely American-style, but also international, and also better. There are American elements — Starbucks, Burger King, Beyonce music blaring from a music and book store across the way. Everyone speaks English, without hesitation; it’s the lingua franca here, and everywhere. But then there are the shops selling Turkish Delight and boreks.

(I’m actually drinking a grounds-heavy Turkish coffee from Starbucks at the moment.) Stores accept U.S. dollars, Euros and New Turkish Lira, and duty-free prices are all in Euros.

And how is this airport better? Not only is it high-ceilinged, spotless and airy, but there’s free wireless internet, flat-screen computer displays all over the place and brisk moving walkways to get you from one place to another. My experience on Turkish Airlines from Berlin was also a cut above what American airlines offer. The plane was brand new, they served the best airline food I have had in memory (with real cutlery too), and the service was professional and efficient. By the look and feel of this place, America indeed has some catching up to do.

Next stop: Hong Kong. Perhaps it, too, will stake a claim to being the world center. But Ataturk Airport will be hard to beat.