İstanbul, My (Un)fair City

An ancient spa or a modern "pee" stop?

When you visit a country for the first time, there are dozens of things that seem absolutely foreign, like as if you landed on a planet from a different period.  Let me tell you, this can be true even for your hometown - when you live far and away for a long time, with every trip back home, you start noticing things that you took for granted in your previous life. Those that once were boring become intriguing, and those that seemed novel transform into “pfff, this is too American...”

Here, I listed a few things that I find funny, sad, interesting but nevertheless, peculiar to people of İstanbul.  

Feeding cats is very trendy (1)

1. Stray cats and dogs: If you ever wonder why there are as many cats (and dogs) in this city as there are humans, the answer is because people love feeding them. When I was an undergrad, a stray dog on campus was communally fed by students, professors and employees. There was a myth about this dog that he knew all the students, and would bark only if you were an outsider. Once, he was badly injured in a fight and the veterinarian had to cut one of his legs. In honor of his bravery, he was given a catchy name: Tripot. Tripot lived very happily on lamb stews and hot dogs, and continued to defend his territory for the rest of his life. (I learned later from recent graduates that Tripot died a few years ago. )

 Turkish name is not as trendy :)

2. Residential building names: I really don’t know where this tradition comes from. But name-tagging is true for almost any residential building in Turkey. Usually, it is either the name of the architect, the engineer, or something that he/she chose to cherish on the building. I was born in Bayram apt. (Festivity apartment) and lived fifteen years in Can apt. (Soul apartment). Nowadays, I see more and more English names appearing as apartment names in İstanbul. I guess it is part of being "European", a forlorn desire sought especially by people of İstanbul.

A blind musician playing cümbüş (banjo)

3. Street musicians: Music and musicians are at the very core of this city. Within the past ten years or so, street musicians became "cooler" and more sophisticated in the instruments they play. Before -meaning, maybe fifteen years ago- the market belonged mostly to the blind or the gypsies. It is fun to watch the more European-looking, jazzy, fusion-inspired, hip musicians of İstanbul streets. But the blind people, playing their instruments quietly in a corner, make the best street music in my opinion. Maybe they do a better job in channeling their emotions, or maybe their hearing gets better tuned once they lose their sight... Unfortunately, I don't have a recording of one to post here for comparison, but watch these hipster Turks play a nice Balkan (or Russian?) tune in front of the Galata Tower in Galata.

Notice the Greek letters above

4. Old, abandoned structures: They are everywhere! All you have to do is look up. Or down. It is really easy to spot them, though none of the İstanbullu (one from İstanbul) will understand why you are taking a picture of. It could be Starbucks taking over (again!) an 18^th century Greek building in downtown, or a 14^th century Turkish bath squeezed in between the stones of a sidewalk in a residential area (see above pic). Honestly, I find this juxtaposition of the old and modern quite amusing. And sometimes, even hope that it stays that way.

Buy it or document it: Buildings of Tarlabaşı

5. Destructive constructions: There is a huge government-subsidized City Transformation Project that attempts to build earthquake-proof, transportation-accessible apartment complexes around the city (2). Though it sounds “humane and futuristic,” it will destroy neighborhoods and isolate the working class to poorer parts of the city. In an attempt to transform Tarlabaşı neighborhood into “Champs-Elysee of İstanbul,” most of the unoccupied, historical buildings will be destroyed or sold for high prices after renovation. I believe this project will seriously damage the texture of the city, and I don't even want to think how (badly) it will transform İstanbul. The change will make some people in the government very rich, that’s for sure. So, if you are living in İstanbul, please go grab a camera and document these neighborhoods. Because before you know, they may turn into monstrous shopping malls and leave our memories forever...

Notes: 

(1) Courtesy of Merih Danalı.

(2) I highly recommend you watch Ekümenopolis (with English subtitles), a documentary on the transformation of İstanbul. 

A Life in Ruins

DIY telephone pole with ancient stones

When I was a kid, I used to spend  summers camping with my parents in Fethiye. A Mediterranean town in Muğla -and not as touristic as it is now-, Fethiye was a field of exploration for us. Ruins of ancient Greek cities lay untouched, whether deep in the turquoise waters of Mediterranean or scattered around the neighboring villages of Fethiye. Years later as a college student, I went to Fethiye again. I was walking in downtown to reminisce about my childhood when I spotted something odd, something that froze me and made my jaw drop. Right in the middle of this coastal town, there stood a 2000-years old Greek amphitheater, freshly-excavated and ready for its next show. As I wondered how on earth this theater could stay intact and uncovered for all these millenniums, I noticed that the arch of its last seating row was in perfect alignment with the houses behind it. Clearly, the occupants of these houses had "no idea" that they had the bleacher seats right in their bedroom.

Room with a view: Rent before it is underwater!

Over the years, stories like this filled up my memory and camera during my travels in Turkey. As houses were built, subways were dug, dams were constructed, Turks grew tired of uncovering -and covering up- ancient city of this, prehistoric village of that, Byzantium cave churches right, and Roman baths left. I remember a friend of mine (then an archeology PhD student at Harvard) shrugging his shoulders when the world rushed in to document the unveiling of Roman mosaics at the ancient city Zeugma. Archeologists there were racing against the looters to dig out as much as possible before Birecik Dam's water levels threatened to rise. As many of us watched the countdown holding breaths, my friend shamelessly said ".. man, one less mosaic is not a big deal, dig your own garden and you will find one."   I understand building a dam and bringing water is essential for the development of a region. But the attitude against our cultural heritage -starting with the educated- desperately needs to change.

Mosque and stork will soon migrate

In Mardin, the situation is no different. Locals build their houses on ancient cisterns and recycle the stones from a nearby antique city. A family in Hasankeyf resists to move out of their house (I don't blame them) built on the remains of the Artuquid Bridge (see above pic). And the government can do nothing about it as the residents hold a legitimate title of the land. It may seem perfectly fine to reuse these stones or to renovate the space for your own needs since these people are basically being practical. Why go anywhere else when these abandoned cities built near the water offer so much, right? It would have been nice though, if people gave a little more respect to cultural heritage without discrimination. The El-Rızk Mosque in Hasankeyf, for instance, will be carried by the government to another site to protect it from the rising waters of Ilıca Dam. But the Artuquid Bridge that exhibits itself on every Hasankeyf postcard will be left to its faith, along with the family that lives inside.

Students and security at Medrese's cafe

There are also some good things going on for the sake of protection of cultural heritage. Malabadi Köprüsü (Malabadi Bridge) at the gate of Batman Dam is under construction by a fund from the government. Most of the Greek/Roman amphitheaters are restored to their original condition and can host concerts, plays and even dance shows. Recently, Artuklu University of Mardin started purchasing some of the ancient buildings in the old city of Mardin. Their purpose is to renovate these buildings and turn them into institutes as part of the university. The "exploitation" causes a dismay among some foreign scholars, but it is a very smart move if you ask me. Zinciriye Medrese, a 14th century Artuquid building used for teaching Islamic theology, is now "Institute of Living Languages in Turkey", the only one of its kind. There is a little fountain inside this amazing medrese where everyone stops by to take a picture of themselves reflected in. This fountain not only adds to the aesthetics of the building -which already has a spectacular view of Mardin Valley-, but also acts as a sound barrier between classrooms. Students -from all cultures- take a lunch break at the "cafe" as tourists quietly stroll in their school. Can you think of a better way of "recycling" an ancient building?


Note: For more pictures of how locals reclaim our culture heritage, click here.