Our Money Is Not Neutral.

I was born and now  live in Istanbul which is a pretty crowded city compared to the total area inhabited by people. You can meet here all sorts of people from all sorts of backgrounds. 

Every Saturday there is a local market set up close to my house where we buy fresh vegetables, fruit, cheese and much more . Not that we can not obtain those from a supermarket but this is the way it has always been here in Istanbul.  Although general prices of pretty much everything in this country is constantly rising  the prices at this market has been surprisingly stable over the years. I know why and how thats possible, all those subsidized farming , local incentives to those who sell on the market, but I doubt those working to provide for themselves realize whats going on. They just keep trying against the huge wealth transfer happening here for years. 

One of the sellers is this guy who is always very polite and hepful to his customers. And he is honest decent guy who just want to play the game  by  its rules. You know, doing his best. He has this old white and rusty hyundai brand mini van always parked behind his counter. People love this guy , ladies, elderly or anybody would not pass by his stand without at least saying hi and chatting a little with him. He would slice a piece of his best fruits and insist you try it, he genuinely seems enjoying what he is doing .

But today I could see in his eyes something was not quite right, he was still doing his job but he was not there. Standing right in front of  his counter I overheard some ladies whispering : " Is his son back ? " asked one of the ladies, the other lady answered : " No, I think he will be there from now on."

As I knew from one of our previous conversations with him, his blue eyed young kid was serving in the army. I did not wait to ask, " Who ? His son , that little kid? What about him? " 

He should have been back by now , its been quite a while, no?  Thats what I thought to my self. Someone behind me said : " He enlisted in  as a specialist seargent ! And he is in the war zone!"  

While I was watching this guy working so hard to serve his customers, weighing his products, filling plastic bags, I thought to myself " His kid is too young , should have been staying by his parents side . "  I hardly kept my self from bursting into tears. I wanted to punch things, maybe some corrupt politicians or those head of corporations in bed with the government  who receive billions of dollars for some crazy keynesian construction projects. 

That kid left his parents at a young age so he can earn salary in order to be able to get married, have kids and maybe take care of his awesome father,  by  fighting bloody guerilla wars, killing or dying .  Thousands of kilometers far away deep into a  hell hole. 

In Istanbul everyday around a million bread rolls are thrashed , around half of a dollar for each. 

I despise money, I really do.