i hear the bang & clang of the coppersmiths forming copper plates
i hear the call of kebab-evis' hosts
i see the glimmer & shine of the copperware & mosque pinnacles on display in a shop
i see the colourful & deep red pantalOOns suspended in front of shops
& other shops fronted by spices & hanging dry goods
i see the deep tanned reds & blacks of traditional slip-ons proudly displayed
the all but forgotten meat market smells of stale blood meal, yet it adds to a lively & ad-hoc appearance that continues for a few blocks.
the bazaar is adjacent to a recently pedestrianized area of a few streets that incorporates many, many shops, mostly clothing.
these streets are swamped with people, most of whom seem almost jetset, but not quite.
the bazaar is calm & peaceful compared to these pedestrian streets, so i imagine it is only a matter of time before the former gives way to the latter.
0, absolutely 0 tourists here. it seems that even in relatively rural mardin they are more used to foreigners.