ISTANBUL: MEMORIES AND THE CITY -- 12
BY ORHAN PAMUK
I
was born in the middle of the night on June 7, 1952, in a small private
hospital in Moda.
Its corridors, I’m told, were peaceful that night, and so was
the world.
Aside from the Strambolini volcano’s having suddenly begun to spew
flames and ash two days earlier, relatively little seems to have been happening
on our planet.
The newspapers were full of small news: a few stories about the
Turkish troops fighting in Korea; a few rumors spread by Americans stoking
fears that the North Koreans might be preparing to use biological weapons.
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