Seoul I find an Eminönü in every city I visit — I see it as a sacred pilgrimage. A return to where I was born, a return to Eminönü. I found it in Seoul, too, by turning my back to a historical gate. I had no idea where I was, no map, murmuring monotonously, "Flags and banners no longer satisfy me," as I wandered into a vibrant market. Eminönü is where a significant portion of my childhood unfolded — little escapes, because for me, Eminönü meant “the other side.” Taking small blue ferries from Kasımpaşa, leaving home, crossing that Golden Horn I never liked the smell of... I don't know, maybe because I’ve never felt “out of place” anywhere, maybe because I belong everywhere a little, I quickly warmed to this Eminönü of Seoul. The button on my coat had fallen off, and when the pin on my vest — and also my glasses — came loose, I figured I’d earned a Purple Heart. But first, I had to find that button shop in the arcade, choose a button that matched. My mind was on Kore...