My heart sank when I saw the slummy, grungy, unsecured stairwell leading to this bare-bones apartment, and things did not improve from there.
The short version: no wifi, poor security (especially for women), and a "shrug it off, so what" host who literally sent me several messages saying "sorry, I can't help you" (during the rare times when I could receive messages...)
Longer version: I had arrived at the airport at the time I had mentioned to the host, but my roaming wasn't working and the airport wifi was weird, so I asked a bellhop and then a second kind stranger to send the host an SMS.
The host later said he doesn't answer the phone from strangers--an odd thing for an AirBnb host who knew I wasn't local. When my taxi driver shared his internet with my phone, Cem did eventually send me a picture of a wifi code for the apartment.
When I had climbed all the stairs to the apartment, the non-English-speaking representative of the host tried to show me around, but couldn't explain much. After he left, I tried the wifi, and it seemed weirdly spotty--I couldn't find the router, just a wifi repeater. Later I learned the apartment doesn't have its own router; apparently it is shared with the building?!?
The wifi kept giving me an error--I did not have a SIM card yet and I had no way to call if there was an emergency.
The fact that there was one (locked with a jiggly fractious key) door between me and the very grungy stairwell area made me extremely uneasy, especially since I couldn't call for help. The second (and last) night, a man was making noise in the stairwell at 11:30 pm--it didn't seem like he was just going up or down the stairs.
Cem said he'd send workmen for the wifi. That didn't happen. He gave me the password for a hotel across the street--unprofessional, plus the apartment didn't get that signal anyways. He sent a SIM card that didn't work, at least in foreign phones. I eventually bought my own, but not before some unpleasantness.
I could deal with stuff like the dank air-freshener-masking-cigarette-smoke smell, but Cem seemed uninterested in the fact that I couldn't communicate with the world in case of trouble (or do Zoom calls for my job), and that I didn't feel safe. He'd say he was at work and couldn't respond.
I have had good experiences with Airbnb. Plus, I travel to sketchy places a lot and am not particularly picky. It never before occurred to me to filter hosts by gender. But if this is what passes for a secure Airbnb-approved environment in Istanbul, I may have to start filtering.
I cannot believe a female Airbnb vetter would have OK'd this place. Maybe it's fine for party boys coming to smoke and drink (that's what it sounded like when they often left their door open a floor or two below), but not for most visitors. Let the buyer beware.