I understand that a coup attempt is no trivial matter, but as with any problem, how one reacts is key.
I understand that a coup attempt is no trivial matter, but as with any problem, how one reacts is key.
News about Syrian refugees and Turkey make this country seem like just a springboard for Syrians going to Europe and North America.
The narrative seems to go like this: Syrian refugee comes to Turkey. Syrian wants to live the EU dream and be reunited with uncle/cousin/friend who is already there. Syrian waits for dangerous passage to Europe. Syrian pays a grand for a fake passport made in Aksaray. Syrian waits in secret, marginalized squalor in a hostile country with a fickle government and xenophobic people who want them out.
A trip to Aksaray for lunch tells a slightly different story.
My Syrian coworker Monty and I recently went for lunch in Little Syria, aka the Haseki area of Fatih (Aksaray, as most know it) to a place called Sahtin on Turgut Ozal Millet Caddesi, a 15 minute walk from the Yenikapi Marmaray station.
Monty, an ESL instructor at Istanbul Şehir University who has a master’s degree in TESOL from University of Aleppo, has been in Istanbul since 2012. He likes Sahtin because the food is “exactly the same” as what he ate in his hometown, Aleppo. Sahtin is spacious, with two floors facing the busy avenue, strips of colorful LED lighting in a ceiling with wood planks. A Syrian sports channel was tuned to the Syrian national team’s 2018 World Cup qualifier.
First came some tabouli (chopped parsley, mint, bulgur and tomatoes) some krem thoom, creamy garlic sauce (made with vegetable oil, garlic, lemon, egg whites and salt). There was also hummus. Ah, humus! The dish that is the most commonly misconceived as being replete in Turkey. Humus is not common here (except for in Hatay), and it’s usually not very good.
Before our food came, Monty talked briefly about his story. A participant in peaceful protests in 2012, he fled to Turkey when things got deadly. Turkey wasn’t a first choice.
“I was planning to go to the Gulf. They pay (English teachers) well there. When the revolution started, unfortunately, those people who call themselves ‘Arabs’ stopped giving visas,” he said. “Turkey was a last resort, but I have no regrets.”
His sister, who is married with children, settled in Istanbul 11 years ago. About a year ago, when he had delays renewing his passport, he considered slipping out of the country. But he doesn’t have a burning desire to leave in the near future.
“I look at my brother and cousins in Europe. I compare their situation and what they are in now. I’m thankful for what I have here. I have good friends. If I went to Europe, what kind of job would I have? Working at a restaurant?”
At that moment, the only restaurant on our minds served the folded heaven known as the Syrian chicken shawarma. It’s folded up flat pita with heaps of a soft, mild melted cheese, cuts of succulent döner chicken. The result was filling without being too heavy, not like you just had an air sandwich Turkish döner, but that you ate something to power you through an Istanbul day.
“This deliciousness could put all the döner places in Istanbul out of business!” I proclaimed, knowing full well that it’s too “foreign” for the Turkish fast food palate.
Afterwards, we continued to chat over some strong Syrian tea. Monty chatted to a waiter. He said fewer Syrians coming to the restaurant, a result of the exodus to Europe.
Would you stay in Turkey? I asked Monty. “Maybe if I met a Turkish girl,” he said with a laugh. For now, this highly educated English teacher has a decent life here — not without it’s troubles — and he isn’t climbing over people to be the next man out.
Update: Monty is dating a Dutch woman, but still plans to stay in Turkey for the time being.