第26部分(第3/7 頁)

ng　from　hand　to　hand　began。

Allow me to admit proudly that I’ve spent most of my time in Istanbul

wandering from purse to purse； and from sash to pocket； as befits an

intelligent　coin。　My　worst　nightmare　is　to　be　stored　in　a　jug　and　languish　for

years　beneath　a　rock；　buried　in　some　garden；　not　that　it　hasn’t　happened　to

me；　but　for　whatever　reason；　these　periods　have　never　lasted　long。　Many　of　the

people　who　hold　me　want　to　be　rid　of　me　as　soon　as　possible；　especially　if　they

discover　I’m　fake。　Noheless；　I　have　yet　to　e　across　someone　who’ll　warn

an　unsuspecting　buyer　that　I’m　counterfeit。　A　broker；　not　recognizing　that　I’m

counterfeit； who has counted out 120 silver coins in exchange for me； will

berate　himself　in　fits　of　anger；　sorrow　and　impatience　as　soon　as　he　learns　he’s

been cheated； and these fits won’t subside until he rids himself of me by

cheating　another。　During　this　crisis；　even　as　he　attempts　to　repeatedly　swindle

others；　failing　each　time　on　account　of　his　haste　and　anger；　he’ll　continue　all

the　while　to　curse　the　“immoral”　person　who　had　originally　conned　him。

116

Over the last seven years in Istanbul； I’ve changed hands 560 times； and

there’s not a house； shop； market； bazaar； mosque； church or synagogue I

haven’t　entered。　As　I’ve　roamed　about；　I’ve　learned　that　much　more　gossip　has

been　spread；　many　more　legends　told　and　lies　spun　in　my　name　than　I’d　ever

suspected。 I’ve constantly had my nose rubbed in it： Nothing’s considered

valuable anymore besides me； I’m merciless； I’m blind； I myself am even

enamored　o