Christmas Trees in Istanbul - Reflections on Cultural Understanding

(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.