My Turkish Uncles

by Terje Raa

Istanbul is full of uncles and nephews, who can hardly wait to include you as a family member too. They will serve you apple tea and treat you with respect, simply make you feel at home, while explaining to you about Anatolian carpets and keeping you warm in various designs of leather jackets.

This temporary friendliness is just an opening, soon followed by economic arguments and calculations. If your conscience is under attack, you must be particularly careful – as the survival of Turkish culture is then about to become your responsibility. All these irrelevant burdens might qualifiy you for stress counseling at the end of the day.

Gentle rain day after day, temperatures around zero – that's how Istanbul can appear in February, although the month average says 9 degrees Celsius. Under these weather conditions, you may have to revise your program toward indoor activities. The young nephews simultaneously intensify their efforts to dig up customers, and rest assured, they will find you!

Where From

”Where are you from?” is a standard approach, no refinement, no politeness. My own first acquaintance operates more subtly - he suddenly walks next to me in the Topkapi Gardens, and we talk politics. He does mention a nearby carpet shop, but I am heading for the Grand Bazaar. ”Perfect, we'll drink tea at my uncle's!” That turns out to be an elegant place in the street of Yerebatan, where a troop of uncles are ready to make me a carpet owner.

Carpets, flying through the air, land on the floor, one of them a red piece measuring 100 x 155 cm. I should have seen the trouble coming and kept my mouth shut, ”Beautiful!” That starts a war – where insults are inevitable. ”What's it worth to you?” I am not in the market for a carpet and do not intend to play the game of bargaining, by suggesting a 25 to 50%  reduction and accepting a compromise somewhere between buyer's and seller's first price, the latter 2800 Turkish Lire. The red carpet is packed in a black carpet bag, ready to be walked home. The air is thick with prices; ”Pay nothing, only VAT, gift for you!” I'm already fed up with screaming uncles.

”Okay if I come back tomorrow?” I am still interested in patterns and carpet history, and I am dying to learn how these nephews operate – on their own, hired by shop owners or whatever. My own special nephew is still around, we now continue to the Bazaar where he drops me in a tiny leather shop with no window. ”Family!” I clarify my position, ”Not interested in leather!” The shop owner is a sporty old man with a past in the German Bundesliga. An elderly lady in tight jeans and a thin mini blouse keeps us company, ”My sister!” he says.

Two  boys at the approximate age of 15 hang around, utterly bored. The owner is very impatient, still waiting to conclude today's first deal. He tears down jackets which I reluctantly try on. ”Perfect, perfect!” Regardless that the sleeves are half a meter too long. The two boys had enough of their potential grandfather, they explode in laughter and are thrown out of his shop. I want to go the same way. But the man has something he must show me – he  pulls me into the street, proceeds leftwards, up dark stairs, into a  completely black room, turns on the light – voila! - an army of rolled-up carpets. I repress a scream.

Anatolian Traditions

The following day, the guys on Yerebatan take me by surprise. A guy calling himself ”Philosopher” is there to guide me – he takes me through baby lambswool, silk and kelims. It's fascinating the way  patterns and symbols have repeated themselves among Nomads and Indians, on either side of the globe. Anatolian housewives are duly credited as tradition bearers, one of them sitting there before us, busy double-knotting. The man himself is a tradition bearer who studied the art and culture of carpets for 16 years. My respect is gone, though, when I find myself signing a purchase contract of 2800 TL.

I change my mind about the last day. I had promised to bring baclava cakes to the guys in the shop on Yerebatan, to demonstrate my respect of customs. But no, they will never give up price discussions, nor respect me as a non-buyer. The only reward I will offer them is my own departure. They beat me to it! A voluminous guy has materialized amidst the carpets, resembling a baby buddha. He suddenly announces my retirement, ”You must leave now!”

That teaches me a lesson – that it's okay to be a bit rude toward uncles and nephews. When an umbrella is forced into your hand or a guide book for that matter, there is no reason to be soft, ”Keep your stuff!” And you can always withdraw to places of peace and heavenly beauty like the Blue Mosque, Agia Sophia and the Topkapi Palace, or leave the surface of the Earth by descending into the Cisterns.

Working Methods

The uncle/nephew constellation is a way of organizing things – a working method – seldom the family relationship it pretends to be, but when yhou see the real thing, you will recognize it immediately – like two generations of men with their fishing rods pointing into the clouds on Galata Bridge, standing close to exploit the body heat of one another.

At the end of the Bridge you will recognize the Galata Tower, at the bottom of which spreads Istiklal, the leading shopping street of Istanbul, whose only motorized traffic is one old tram wagon, shuttling between Galata and the number one square, Taksim, where uncles during daytime cooperate with local pigeons to create tourist snapshots and - at nighttime - with bar and restaurant owners to create soaring tourist bills.

More innocent are the small restaurants using uncles and nephews as a fake sign of honest behavior. All items are price-listed in the menu, but the bill is often an empty piece of paper with one single figure on it - like 30 TL for example. There is no reason to accept that, in case you suspect any irregularity, ”Specify please!” 

Busses have their own uncle and nephew setup. Some drivers compensate for the boredom by chatting with the tourists. You get lots of hints and insider tips from a man who is also genuinely interested in your own whereabouts, made possible because the sales and validation of tickets are nephew work.

Normally you would come back from Istanbul with shining minarets on your retina, romantic views from sunset bars, tourist boats shuttling on the Bosporous between Europe and Asia. Impressions may be very different in the cold season when the rain tends to be constant and temperatures seem locked around zero.

Then you need alternatives – uncles and nephews could be one approach, quite entertaining. And your umbrella should definitely be a transparent one – not that it will bring back the skyline of towers, minarets and modern highrise – it might, however, maintain  the illusion of a special mix –  a combination of openness and light that seems to bring out the curvature of the Earth.