Heaven on earth, from village to town in 30 years

According to the story he asked his men to find him a place resembling “heaven on earth” to found a new city. Attalus’ men were clearly impressed by the location where the modern city of Antalya now stands. A break in the cliffs made for a fine natural harbor, essential for trade, and the fertile hinterland was ideal for agriculture. There were a couple of passes through the Taurus range backing the proto-city which allowed communication with the Anatolian interior, plus plentiful fresh water emanating from the same mountains. Throw in the mild climate and sheer physical beauty of the location and it is not difficult to see why Attalus decided that he would indeed build a new city here.

Half heaven, half hell

But is Antalya indeed a “heaven on earth”-- Atatürk reportedly said after visiting the place in the 1930s that it was “without doubt, the world’s most beautiful city” -- or is it, as a Turkish friend and Antalya resident recently told me, “yari cennet, yari cehennem” (half heaven, half hell)? Whatever your opinion on the merits and demerits of the city, the fact that it has -- overall -- grown and prospered, cannot be argued with. The settlement developed rapidly in the Roman period, prospered under the Byzantine Empire and was considered a major prize by the Selçuk Turks, who captured it in the 13th century. In the 17th century the famous Ottoman Turkish traveler Evliya Çelebi wrote of the narrow streets containing 3,000 houses and the separate quarters marked out within the ancient walls for the Christians, Jews, Greeks and Muslims. By 1927, the population had fallen to only 17,000, but by 1990 it had swelled to 370,000. Today, signs on the roads leading to Antalya indicate that the official figure has surpassed the 1-million mark -- and the actual number is probably considerably higher than this.

Looking at the ever-growing, sprawling mass of concrete apartment blocks sprouting up at an alarming rate on every vacant plot in and around Antalya, it’s sometimes hard to view Antalya as some kind of paradise. But whilst the current official population figures of over 1 million have transformed this “heaven on earth” into a major-league city suffering from all the problems that rapid growth inevitably entails. On settling here, it’s easy to see why many residents (particularly those who have migrated here from more sophisticated cities), describe Antalya as an overgrown “village.”

Roads: for cars or people?

Although I’ve only lived here for six years, I have many friends who have been here far longer and who look back nostalgically at the time when Antalya could boast only one set of traffic lights and a smattering of cars and trucks carrying farm produce to the street markets. Today the roads are choked with traffic 24/7. In fact, on middle of the night trips to collect visitors from the airport, I am constantly amazed at the amount of traffic still roaring its way through the darkness of the city. Driving here is a risky activity, as is being a pedestrian attempting to cross one of the busy roads (Turkish friends assure me that Antalya and Ankara are notorious in Turkey for having the worst drivers in the country), but I have gradually become accustomed to coping with the potential dangers. Surprisingly, however, turn off any the major roads on to minor roads and the greatest obstacle is likely to be pedestrians wondering slowly along, arm in arm with their companions, oblivious to the sound of traffic coming up behind them. Honk your horn and you risk the black looks indicating their effrontery for daring to disturb their peaceful walk -- surely a throwback to a recent past when Antalya really was little more than an overgrown village.

Sticks and stones

Antalya may have more than its fair share of sunshine, but in the three or four winter months, once that sun sets behind the mountains, the temperatures plummet and evenings require a fair amount of warmth to make them comfortable. Most of the apartment blocks use their air-conditioning units for heat, but many of the houses around my area use “sobas” (free-standing stoves). We have one too and are lucky enough to be able to order the odd ton of pine and oak logs to burn. Many of our neighbors, however, resort to “village” habits of scavenging the area for any suitable flammable material. In the obvious absence of handy forests, they instead turn their hunter-gatherer techniques to any old pieces of furniture, doors, window frames, etc. that may be lying around building sites or bins. Again, lacking a good old fashioned tool such as an axe -- commonly used in the villages -- large stones are used. The scavenged pieces of debris are positioned -- many on our doorstep -- whilst whole families gather round and take turns smashing the wood up into pieces suitable for their stoves. The recent cold spell has seen a veritable frenzy of such activity, and the noise and the ensuing mess have driven me crazy.

Tea and gossip

In an effort to keep up with my climbing and trekking loving husband, I have spent many holidays following him up mountains and along trails, invariably winding our way through remote Turkish mountain villages. No matter how muddy, sweaty or disheveled looking we are, it’s impossible to walk through a village without being offered some kind of refreshment -- generally copious glasses of tea -- but often extending to portions of soup, yoghurt, cake etc. This endearing rural habit continues in Antalya. If stop by the “kirtasiye” (stationary store) for some photocopying, drop some shoes off for repair, wait at the chemist for a prescription, I am always encouraged to drink tea and chat. If my visits to one of these neighborhood establishments happen to coincide with their mealtime, I am always invited to sit down to share the food. Should I stop by the local “bakkal” (grocers) shop for some last minute purchases and find myself without any money, there is never a problem paying on another day. That such village customs have survived the move to the big city is one of the delights of living in Antalya (and no doubt most, if not all, other cities in Turkey).

Family outings

Village life in Turkey is still very much based around the extended family and it’s pleasing to see this reflected in Antalya. When the new Özdelik shopping mall opened a couple of summers ago, it attracted not only the shopaholics amongst the middle-classes, but also large parties of poorer Turkish families. The latter clearly had very little intent of buying anything from the fancy shops, but were instead looking for a suitable place for their family outing. The new mall provided them not only with a large space to accommodate their numerous family members, but also boasted delightfully cool (and free) air-conditioning -- making an excellent choice for a picnic. Large groups of families are also to be seen in the many Antalya hospitals, where I have had the misfortune to spend many hours over the past year. I usually go alone to these appointments, or at the most with my husband or a friend. Not so the Antalya folk. In true village spirit, they turn out en masse -- offspring, siblings, parents and grandparents -- to accompany the patient for a blood test or consultation.

Today’s Antalya, with its thousands of ugly concrete tower blocks, may no longer look like “heaven on earth” and has lost the intimate, big-village appearance of its recent past. Scratch beneath the surface, however, and the spirit and ethics of Turkish village life are still very much alive.