Istanbul is undoubtedly one of the most important stopping points for people moving away from the conflicts in the Middle East over the last 10 years. To personally observe the created by this movement, we visited Şam Neighbourhood, located on the borders of Esenyurt.
This location was notorious for being dangerous and we had never experienced anything like it before. When we entered the neighbourhood, we had the chance to communicate with many people. The general attitude we saw in people was one of timidity. We met many people who did not even want to share their names. Especially when we conveyed our request for an interview, this shy attitude made itself felt much more clearly. After realizing that we will not be able to communicate on the streets, we decided to stop by the shops. We tried our luck in many shops, most of which have names of Arabic origin; however, our interview requests were rejected, sometimes with shyness and sometimes with harsh looks. But finally, we found out the opportunity.
It was a dessert shop called Salloura Oğlu, run by two middle-aged men named Muhammed and Ismael. We told them that we were college students, and that we were studying multiculturalism and that we wanted to talk to them. They accepted. Of the two, Muhammed was the one more eager to chat with us. Since neither we speak Arabic nor they speak Turkish, Muhammed called his son, who knew Turkish quite well, to ensure communication between us.
He stated that they came to Turkey 11 years ago, in the first years of the Civil War in Syria. This first information we obtained explained why his son, who spent most of his childhood in Turkey, was almost fluent in Turkish. When we asked what they did to maintain their culture in Esenyurt, Muhammed stated that there was nothing left for them in Syria due to the internal conflicts, and in this context, they did not feel any cultural ties to their homeland. While we were encountering this surprising answer, a sunny Sunday was going on outside, in the eerie Şam Neighbourhood of Esenyurt, where living a life was a challenge in itself.
Muhammed said that they were frequently exposed to calls to “go back to Syria” since the first day they moved in, and that they had gotten used to them. Especially, until 4 months ago, there were many uncomforting incidents regarding refugees in the Esenyurt Square area and that they were going through a worried period. While we were listening to these unpleasant events, Salloura Oğlu’s şöbiyet dessert was served to us, and it stood as a symbol of their resilience, distinct from the Turkish variant.
After Muhammed said that they did not feel anything about Syrian culture, one of the main interesting parts for us was their approach to other refugees. We felt as if the immigration to Turkey was divided among itself. They referred to Afghans, Palestinians, Iraqis, Iranians and many more as “Arabs”. They all live together, but rather than a specific culture being formed, an environment of lack of culture has been shaped. We have seen that different cultures cannot get closer due to economic and social concerns. In fact, we realized that even people from the same nation could not find an atmosphere of closeness due such uncomforting environment. This situation came to our mind as a situation that is likely to occur in different ways, especially in different districts of Istanbul. A habitat suitable for a culture to survive was not possible in a location like Esenyurt, where crime, public order and many other things are quite problematic. Furthermore, there was an identity confusion that surrounded the Şam Neighbourhood and its immediate surroundings, which we can say was kind of submerged. The refuge/migration situation of Syrians in Turkey, which has been going on for more than 10 years, can also manifest itself through cultural indicators in Istanbul and different parts of the city. It is desired to create an environment of solidarity with the established associations. However, as we learned from Muhammed, there are not such structures that will provide a socio-cultural movement in this relatively isolated region of Esenyurt. It is not possible to see much in the Şam Neighbourhood, beyond faded shop signs and Arabic language, which is used at least as much as Turkish in daily life. And on these streets in the far corners of Istanbul, on the margins of Turkish society, Muhammed and Ismail have a strong will to make a living at the helm of their business, Salloura Oğlu.
While the şöbiyet, which feels less sugary and has a much larger portion than the Turkish variant, is gradually disappearing from our plates, Muhammed’s son forwards our questions to his father through a phone call. This middle-aged man, far from his homeland, complains about why he and his family still cannot obtain Turkish citizenship, even though he has been running his business for years in an honourable manner. While they serve us a more sedimentary and intense coffee that is very reminiscent of Turkish Coffee, they actually run their traditions in the streets full of hookah cafes and shabby shops, as if it were an almost insignificant means of survival for them.
Muhammed was a very friendly and sincere person. He helped us with everything. Even when there was a language barrier between us, he called his child and had him translate. They wanted to offer şöbiyet and coffee as a treat from the house. While we politely rejected their kind offer, we thought that the streets portray a much more complex, raw, and diverse reality rather than the good or bad stereotypes painted in the mainstream and social media. Besides, we were in belief that the situation was quite clear and striking for the Şam Neighbourhood, Salloura Oğlu, Muhammad and Ismail: Sell Şöbiyet, live with dignity.
by Taylan Özgür Ukşal, Ahmet Buğra Çelik