The irony wasn't completely lost on us. Visiting Dolmabahçe Palace, a symbol of preposterous wealth and privilege, while just outside workers were marching in Istanbul's infamous Labor Day protests. "What's that smell?" I whispered to Jürgen, while admiring a carpet with more square footage than any apartment I've ever lived in. "Tear gas", he said, his eyes starting to well up. "Amazing carpet, though."