Good to talk -- meet your Turkish neighbors

There are numerous occasions when I am happy to adopt the latter approach and one type of social pursuit I am pleased to engage in is informal conversation with my Turkish neighbors as well as with local business folk.

Having the added bonus of what in Turkish terms could be best described as an extended family residing in locations ranging far and wide, from Ankara’s Batıkent to its bustling central Beşevler neighborhood, up-and-coming Çukurambar complete with brand new restaurants, shopping facilities, luxury hotels and previously much needed yet now added public bus stops to Güvenlik Mahallesi closer to what locals quite adequately refer to as Embassy Row (Atatürk Bulvarı). I am able to state that thanks to my Turkish neighbors I have familiarized myself with not just one but a fair number of neighborhoods.

Actually, over the years these conversations became more sophisticated, as what used to be my extremely rudimentary mastery of the Turkish language eventually became more acceptable and in large parts thanks to those neighbors and acquaintances who for a year or so unwaveringly put up with me gesturing and constantly unduly mixing English words with Turkish expressions. By now we can indeed exchange our viewpoints about issues as diverse as our children’s education, the way the country is going or the economy.

What amazes me about those gentle yet hardworking folk (best characterized as Turkey’s emerging Anatolian middle classes) managing a corner shop, a newsstand or bar or restaurant is the hours they put in without ever complaining about it. Whereas in the many other countries I have had the pleasure of visiting I often heard a constant moaning about how tough life was there. Here in Turkey, and despite the fact that making ends meet is tough everywhere, comments about commuting for three hours each day, paying for kids’ school books or why value-added tax makes running a corner shop more cumbersome as people tend to count their money twice before parting with it are made with a smile.

What greatly helped in this regard -- to better understand daily life and daily routine in this fascinating country, that is -- was my trying to do certain things the way they do them over here. “When in Rome…” You will have heard this famous saying and perhaps lead your very own expatriate life according to its unwritten yet rather universally accepted rules.

One such rule is that you need to spend time talking. You talk at the hairdressers. You chat at the corner shop. You exchange a smile at the newsstand. You get to know people, of course, most likely never more than superficially, yet as a part of what we do because we are social beings.

Having children by your side

Another thing expatriates ought to remember is that in Turkey children are part and parcel of almost everything you could possibly do while being away from home, perhaps more so than in other countries.

I recently attended an official meeting about a local municipality’s efforts to make their town a better place, and a key town hall representative happily kept her young son asleep on her lap. She was able to concentrate on the discussion and nobody seemed distracted by the fact that a child was present. After all, we cannot just “park” our children outside the building!

In my case, my daughter, Melisa-Michelle, came along with me to many places in Ankara on the condition that hospitality establishments offered a smoke-free environment, the temperature was adequate and toilets child-friendly, i.e., extremely clean. I also looked for perhaps a kids’ corner or a ball pit to keep her even more entertained while daddy went about his business. We went to the corner shop together. We dropped off shirts at the dry cleaners. I lifted her up so that she could look at the newsstands.

By doing this my Turkish neighbors better understood that “the foreign import” was raising a family himself and if nothing else this broke the ice. Many expatriates come and go due to job descriptions and limited contract durations. Once you stay for a little or extended while longer, chances are your children will be here with you. There is no longer need to ponder over which level of assimilation is most desirable (if any) or debate the level of intended or expected individual integration into local Turkish society from a theoretical perspective -- you become part of the neighborhood by definition, by acclamation, so to speak.

Even more interesting is the fact that after having witnessed Turkey dramatically overhauling its entire economy, political structures and past forms of unwanted tutelage (almost, that is) those neighbors who know what I do for a living talk more openly in support of the current government’s efforts. Initially people were more hesitant in some quarters about where the country was headed, and as it seemed, a fair number of business people had previously flirted with the idea of supporting the present political party opposition. I am of course not judging their partisan preferences but I have recently been detecting a more supportive undercurrent vis-à-vis what the Justice and Development Party (AK Party) has been trying to implement than say back in 2007.

I do not necessarily wish to hijack this expat zone page contribution to discuss today’s political directions, as this is more suited to my regular column or an opinion page; however, talking with my Turkish neighbors does of course include exchanging comments about how I evaluate today’s government and how they perceive all things political.

And here comes the good news: Hardly ever am I confronted with the comments I had to listen to five years or so ago when certain hard-liners (apparently many of whom live in neighborhoods where expatriates decide to move to or think should move to) explained their fear about foreigners or how the present national government was intent on turning the country upside down and establishing an altogether different Turkey, one they would not belong to. How come? I wonder whether some of Turkey’s media is mostly to blame, as they all too cleverly manipulated this ultranationalist sentiment if not created it in the first place.

Taking into account the change in opinion I detect between the lines when chatting with my neighbors I would dare say that the perceived impression that Turkey was a nationalistic country was never true and was simply a projection by those few who benefited from its very existence. Was it perhaps always an absolute minority of what some perhaps correctly or perhaps incorrectly describe as “white Turks” cleverly manipulating the masses? Or did the masses wish to be manipulated? I will leave this debate to the sociologists, but I am sure you and me will have a personal opinion on the subject.

While writing this article I remembered last night why I enjoy this kind of face-to-face social networking. I left the Zaman offices in Balgat after attending a gathering there and, after a dear colleague of mine dropped me off just around the corner from where Parliament is housed, I continued my short walk home. In need of some last minute groceries, I stopped by one of my favorite local corner shops. We said hello, exchanged greetings and all of a sudden the owner offered me a cup of coffee. With temperatures below 10 degrees Celsius, I happily obliged. We chatted for about half an hour about family, children, university, the news, work and life in general.

I went home with a smile on my face having talked with nice people -- no one pointing fingers, no one overreacting even when talking about politics, a decent, adult style educated conversation bringing together three generations ranging from the mid-20s to the mid-50s.

Enjoy your own neighborhood and do not worry about the local language if that is a problem -- take me, for example, I eventually managed to overcome the linguistic obstacles. Ultimately, your neighbors may turn out to be the best Turkish language teachers imaginable.