I'm the co-author of Supernuclear and editor of this post. We've been writing the blog for almost five years now, you never know what will go viral!
I've spent my adult life living in Istanbul, New York, San Francisco, and San Juan, Puerto Rico. In Istanbul it sometimes felt like my neighbors knew too much about me - they would comment on who slept over (I had a lot of friends visit!) and once when I went out of town for a week my landlady said she nearly let herself into my home to make sure I hadn't died because no one had seen me in a few days. That being said, it was also comforting to know, 5000 miles from my home and my family, that people around me cared about my wellbeing and my whereabouts.
And this is the thing those of us who live in the US sometimes forget: knowing your neighbors isn't just about being able to borrow cup of sugar when you're out. It's about knowing someone will share their generator when a hurricane has knocked your power out. It's about someone noticing when something looks off and coming over to knock and make sure you're ok. We aren't just happier when we get to know our neighbors better, we're safer.
Greetings from Istanbul. Unfortunately what you describe in your blog post sounds impossible to me in (at least many districts of) Istanbul. The only place to "socialize" in a neighborhood is to sit at coffee shops.
I lived on a street in Cihangir for three years. In the walk to and from work I'd pass several shops and cafes, and got to know all of the owners and regulars.
I’ve lived in scenarios where people saying either of these things would be a huge violation, and I’ve lived in scenarios where people saying either of these things would be natural.
Living in the latter scenario is a far better place, and nothing like, the former scenario.
100% agree! We had moved to a smaller community in New England and was eating an early dinner when we got a single knock on the door. Before we could get up, the UPS driver opened our door to place the packages inside (and out of the snow). He waved and welcomed us and then off we went. It was a bit odd, but then we realized this was a special place that we would come to love and we did.
Well, you should be able to leave for a week without having to tell your neighbors all about it. It may be different for old weak people who are unlikely to just go to vacation all of a sudden.
>isn't just about being able to borrow cup of sugar
this in particular is interesting to me because you used it to illustrate the minimum level of neighborly engagement, but I think many of us don't even reach that level. I for one would never think of asking my neighbor for cooking ingredients; in fact the idea of going over and knocking on their door for any purpose is almost inconceivable to me unless there was a medical emergency.
Not saying my mindset is right or even healthy, but that's how it is. There's a lot of work to be done.
I've spent my adult life living in Istanbul, New York, San Francisco, and San Juan, Puerto Rico. In Istanbul it sometimes felt like my neighbors knew too much about me - they would comment on who slept over (I had a lot of friends visit!) and once when I went out of town for a week my landlady said she nearly let herself into my home to make sure I hadn't died because no one had seen me in a few days. That being said, it was also comforting to know, 5000 miles from my home and my family, that people around me cared about my wellbeing and my whereabouts.
And this is the thing those of us who live in the US sometimes forget: knowing your neighbors isn't just about being able to borrow cup of sugar when you're out. It's about knowing someone will share their generator when a hurricane has knocked your power out. It's about someone noticing when something looks off and coming over to knock and make sure you're ok. We aren't just happier when we get to know our neighbors better, we're safer.