(Written December 2014)
Two months in Istanbul is not long enough to really
understand what Istanbul is. In our
shopping, adjusting and settling in, we are asking ourselves, “What is this
place?” Clearly this is a city of history
and breadth. Its architectural gems are
ancient, contrasting the modern city sprawl. Geographically it’s straddled over two
continents: Europe and Asia. Its food is
a Mediterranean fusion. This list of
obvious observations could go on.
These observations are realities of what this city is. These are things that we can say with
authority, “Yes, I know Istanbul is ancient with Byzantine and Ottoman
relics. Yes, the city is also modern as
buildings and infrastructure are being built
rapidly. Yes, the Bosporus strait puts
half the city in Europe and half in Asia.
And yes, the food is great.” But when
it comes to understanding a place culturally— when it comes to knowing Istanbul
in its depth—the observed is not sufficient to communicate clearly what really
is going on.
Take a walk with me — Every week I get money from an ATM
about ten minutes from where I live.
Let’s walk there now. We walk
quickly and are careful in crossing the street, for cars move faster and stop
less for people than Americans are used to.
We walk along the uneven sidewalk and taste an aroma of smoke that soaks
into our clothes. Most women have their
heads covered, a few with only eyes appearing.
Two tall minarets from a mosque are high in the sky, creating a backdrop
for the disunities and incongruences in the tapestry of shops and stores that
line the busy street (I speak as a Westerner).
Many men have prayer beads in hand, thumbing them as they leisurely
walk. The baklava and pideh (Turkish “pizza”)
are novel and tantalizing. The sound of
cars honking is blended now with the call to prayer echoing through the streets. As we approach our destination how do you
feel? Gleaning from our brief
observations, what kind of world do you feel you have arrived to?
Or, we could go a different direction to a second ATM. It is also nearly 10 minutes walking from
where I live. As we walk, people in
western clothes are all around. They
have a similar appearance to what you normally see in America. We pass Starbucks and Caribou, not to mention
other coffee shops that are full of modern looking Turks. To our right is a massive mall and before us
IKEA stands strong. Three newly
constructed apartment buildings lift your eyes to the sky. They are not unfamiliar to ones in Chicago,
New York or LA. As we walk into the
large grocery store toward the ATM, you’ll notice the Christmas tree to the
left, complete with Santa and his reindeer to the right. And once we near the ATM, being the holiday
season, Christmas music echoes through the isles. Now how do you feel? What kind of world have you arrived to?
This is Istanbul. It
is a land of contrasted truths. It’s a
city that sits paradoxically in appearance.
Yet we will be misled if we don’t realize that strict appearance is
deceiving.
There is much that can be said but I will only focus on one
point. When we walked together toward
the more “modern” ATM I mentioned that we passed by a Christmas tree. We passed a Christmas tree with Santa and
reindeer. Upon entering the store, we
heard Christmas music as well. Did these
observations perk your curiosity or make you confused? Maybe thoughts such as, “I didn’t know Turkey
celebrates Christmas,” or “I thought most people in Turkey are Muslims,” or “I
didn’t know Turkish people know who Santa is” came to your mind. It is here that our personal understanding of
what a decorated tree and Santa are becomes dissonant from what the truth is. Our observations are loaded with so much of
our own cultural background that when we see things that seem familiar, such as
a decorated tree, we jump to assume it’s meaning without recognizing we could
be in error.
We did not pass by a Christmas tree. Those do not exist here. But there are New Years trees, which look
exactly the same. Even though the
appearance is the same, the significance of this tree is entirely different. What does this mean? It means we, in calling a New Years tree a Christmas
tree, have taken our own understanding of what a lighted and decorated tree is
and applied it to the one here in Istanbul.
We have removed the real meaning and replaced it with a meaning that is
familiar to us.
You might also have observed that we passed by other things
such as “Starbucks,” “Caribou,” “IKEA,” “Mall,” “modern clothes,” and “grocery store.” Is it possible that we interpret these things
the exact way we interpreted the New Years tree? It’s so easy to take our own familiar
experience of these things and then jump to the conclusion that these specific
Turks really aren’t that much different than we are. This is a fallacy of cultural
interpretation. Perceived familiarity is
the kiss of death towards rightly understanding cultures.
Conversely on our first trip to the bank’s ATM, as described
above, we knew we were in a different place.
We knew we needed to take the time to get to the bottom of these
observed expressions. We knew the
coverings, beads, food, smells, and noises were unfamiliar. In difference we can be more attune to recognize
the underlying contrasts in culture. But
when engaging familiar things, it is a temptation to conclude that there is no
depth to what we see. We quickly
conclude, “All are like I am.”
Our assumption that New Years trees in Istanbul are
Christmas trees robs us the opportunity to truly understand. It might seem trivial on this level but when
applied to broader life experience and values, there is much more at
stake. Without right understanding it’s impossible
to connect with the life and heart of a people.
