Turkey in retrospect

Snacks to go with wine and beer. Izmir roadside pub. They serve sticks of carrots mostly dipped in lemon juice.

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In some ways it is good to be back in Europe. The streets in Turkey are almost as bad as in India, so to get back to pavements which are walkable is such a relief.

In retrospect I didn`t get to see as much of Turkey as I suppose, a “normal tourist” would have done. And there is really a LOT to see. The Turks share a bloody history with Greece though in recent times, there has been a touch of friendliness between the two countries, especially after the damaging earthquakes which hit both Turkey and Greece when both sides went all out to help each other.

But I made up for the lack of “sight seeing” by getting a glimpse into the lives of the people I met through Ayse. On the whole the Turks are extremely friendly, at least towards Indians. Wherever Bablu and I went we would have people looking at us with great curiosity. In Izmir, as we were leaving the market one evening and heading for the taxi stand, a woman approached us. She started questioning Ayse intensely and even began to follow us, which alarmed me a bit, because I wondered if she were asking for money! Well, it turned out that she was only curious about Bablu and me. She thought Bablu and I were married and Ayse was our tourist guide. So to avoid long explanations Ayse just said “Yes” to everything. Eventually the lady turned into a side street and as she went away she blew me a kiss. “It`s the first time I`ve come across an Indian!” she said. (Of course Ayse translated it all from Turkish for us).

As for Gürsel and crew, it was most embarrasing to go to the supermarket or anywhere with them because as soon as you picked up anything they insisted on paying for it. The first thing I picked up on my first trip to the supermarket in Izmir with Gürsel was … guess what? A couple of bottles of red wine of course – which he absolutely refused to allow me to pay for. So then I thought of putting back one of the bottles (the more expensive one) but he didn`t allow me to do that either. Anyway, you guys will meet him and his ex wife Aysegül and Ful who are coming to India for the Jan workshop.

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Living in Turkey is very similar to living in India in some ways, except that on the surface things seem more organised. Shops are similar to those in the west and you get the whole range of foodstuffs which makes cooking so easy. Earnings though, are much less than in Europe so most of the middle class people don’t really splurge but live quite restrained lives, in terms of eating out and so on. But from just looking at them, you cant really tell apart the poor from the rich. Kader for example, comes from a working class family. About four or five of them live in two small rooms, says Ayse, though looking at her you would never guess that.

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The food is great. Very much like Greek food of course. I loved the stuffed vine leaves, (dolmas), which you eat with dollops of garlic flavoured yoghurt. They stuff vine leaves, capsicum and aubergines with all kinds of things from tomatoes to mince meat to zuccinni. The kebabs were great too. Lamb and chicken, done perfectly. Fish is more rare and also expensive. And olives are a must with every meal, especially breakfast. These days they even market “diet olives” with low salt content.

The service in Turkey is also very good. Ayse claims that because the Turks were never under foreign domination, the way India and other countries were, they can afford to serve without feeling inferior. The waiters at most of the restaurants were exceptional. During our first outing in Instanbul, for example, at a fish restaurant in a very picturesque alley, the waiter seeing me get out of the car came and helped me. We decided to sit outdoors. When we had been seated for a while, it became quite cold so he actually came out with two woollen shawls which he draped over Ayse`s shoulder and mine. (Bablu of course felt most left out and kept grumbling about how badly he was being treated).

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Turkish coffee is this thick dark brew which is normally drunk after meals and which mostly tastes of coffee grounds. It is also the custom, after you finish drinking your coffee, to turn the cup upside down and when the cup has cooled, to read your fortune in the grounds. Well, we tried that and attempted to get the waiter in the fish restaurant to read our cups but he refused, saying he didn’t indulge in this nonsense because it was dangerous! So Bablu, Ayse and I decided to read each others fortunes. So here goes: (Ayse`s cup):

Bablu: Looks like a small hill.
Uma: Hmmm
Ayse (peering) what does it mean?
Uma: maybe it means that you have a problem but you will get over it?
Bablu: Hmmmm. Yee..eees. Now can we go on to mine?
Uma: Looks the same as Ayse`s. There`s this small hill here and look – there`s this bridge. There is a bridge in life which you have to cross.
Ayse giggles.
(This is her normal response to most things. When we visited the Sultan Ahmet mosque in Istanbul we suggested getting a guide but she said that was ridiculous, she could tell us whatever we wanted to know. But each time we asked any question, whether to do with dates or with architecture she would giggle and say “I don’t know.” Finally we compromised and bought a guide book.)
Back to coffee grounds and to Bablu`s cup.
Bablu: Bridge? Hill? I don’t know yaar. Maybe.
Bablu: OK so lets move on now to Uma`s fortune.

We all peer intensely into my cup. Bablu turns it round several times. So does Ayse. I examine the grounds, hold my breath.

Bablu: Looks like a lump of shit.
Ayse: Yes, really it does. It looks just like a lump of shit.
Uma: Hmmmm. Yes truly it does. But so do yours you know, your cups don’t look any different. All looks like shit to me.

Anyway, this alley where the restaurant was, (in a district called Kumkapi,) whatever it is called, I would have renamed it Cat Alley. There were any number of cats, tabby, ginger, black and white, meaowing and prowling around for scraps. The cats here look more like our Indian cats rather than the sleek well fed European cats.

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Well that was our first evening out and it was a great beginning. We also got a taste of belly dancing in a night club which Ayse took us to in Istanbul and boy! Do they shake their bodies!! The whole thing is one quivering mass of flesh, those women have tremendous control over their muscles for sure. And like in India there were some enthusiastic and probably drunken men stuffing currency notes into the dancers`bras.

The cafes and restaurants are strangely separated in Turkey, I found out. You have hookah cafes, for example, where you only get hookahs and tea or coffee or soft drinks and there are bars where you only get beer or other types of alcohol with some snacks, like peanuts. Then you have kebab joints which don’t serve alcohol. You have “game cafes” where you can play various board games and where they also serve coffee. Of course this doesn`t apply to the expensive and swanky places I suppose which serve everything.

Well that is it about Turkey for now. If anything more occurs to me I`ll add it.

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