Turkey in Europe
Oct. 24th, 2004 12:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
imomus'I don't know why I think this,' wrote my brother in an e mail the other day, 'but I have the impression that you are about to leave Berlin. Is that true?'
It's true that I get restless after two years in a city, and I moved to Berlin in March 2003, so the 'two year itch' is due any month now. And it's true that, since coming back from my summer in Japan I haven't really embraced Berlin with much fervour. But I'm not sick of Berlin by any means. I like the city a lot -- the politics, the culture, the air quality, the low prices, the international young people and the local old people, the seriousness, even the deadness of the place.
Well, the deadness maybe a bit less. There is a fusty grandeur, a monumental splendour about the Karl-Marx-Allee, the socialist boulevard on which I live. It has fountains, Soviet-style architecture, a certain otherworldliness which comes from its origins as a propaganda showpiece for the virtues of communist egalitarian prosperity in the 1950s. But mostly, these days, it's just six lanes of traffic. Under the admittedly glorious avenue of chestnut trees, a rather sedate and chintzy sort of life goes on. Elderly East Germans potter through tacky shops in incongruously palatial spaces. The local food shops are mostly run by North Vietnamese, as is the street market that migrates daily between the Kino Cosmos and another spot closer to the Kino International and sells frilly underwear, cheap clothes, watches, meat and cheese.
I'm not leaving Berlin, but I'm on the verge of moving to Kreuzberg. Whenever I go to Kreuzberg, as I did yesterday to shop in my favourite Turkish supermarket, Tek-Mer, I feel a big sense of relief. This is what a city should be! Instead of cars and monumental boulevards, there are narrow 19th century streets milling with people. Instead of shops which shut early there are shops which stay open late. Instead of old people, there are young people. Instead of beauty salons and Mexican restaurants, there are some of the most radical bookshops and art galleries anywhere (NGBK is currently showing an exhibition of art which breaks the law, Legal / Illegal). Instead of clubs and alcohol there are hammams and tea. Instead of Germans, there are Turks.
I love the Turks. I love their food: olive oil, flat aromatic bread, proper chick peas (not the soft German rubbish you can only get in soup), big tubs of plain yoghurt, big cans of garlicky olives, feta cheese, dried figs, tea and rice. I don't much care for the colours and shapes of the packages in German supermarkets, but I love the colours and shapes and smells in Turkish markets, especially the twice-weekly at Maybach-Ufer by the canal. White Europe hasn't had this kind of density, this kind of vitality since the Middle Ages, since Breughel.
I don't care for the western pop music piped into German supermarkets, but the Turkish pop music in Tek-Mer is a delight to listen to. Two songs on my forthcoming album are in Arabic scales, and it's for pretty much the same reason that two years in New York's Chinatown left me with a taste for Cantonese Opera rather than The Strokes. The faces and clothes of people I see in the Turkish quarter are much more appealing to me, aesthetically, than faces and clothes of Germans in a district like Mitte, no matter how trendy, affluent and creative the Germans may be. For much the same reasons I left London, after ten years there, with a Bangladeshi bride, not an English one. The real vitality in London, the really sympathetic people, were out in the ethnic suburbs, in places like Ilford and Woodford, where the Asians were. A European city without at least one immigrant quarter is a dying city, a sad place of senescent blandness, deadening safety, cautious affluence.
I'm moving to Kreuzberg at the earliest opportunity. I also support the idea of Turkey joining the European Union and I hope that when the decision on Turkey's membership is made on December 17th it's a yes vote and a green light. For Europe's sake as much as Turkey's.
It's true that I get restless after two years in a city, and I moved to Berlin in March 2003, so the 'two year itch' is due any month now. And it's true that, since coming back from my summer in Japan I haven't really embraced Berlin with much fervour. But I'm not sick of Berlin by any means. I like the city a lot -- the politics, the culture, the air quality, the low prices, the international young people and the local old people, the seriousness, even the deadness of the place.
Well, the deadness maybe a bit less. There is a fusty grandeur, a monumental splendour about the Karl-Marx-Allee, the socialist boulevard on which I live. It has fountains, Soviet-style architecture, a certain otherworldliness which comes from its origins as a propaganda showpiece for the virtues of communist egalitarian prosperity in the 1950s. But mostly, these days, it's just six lanes of traffic. Under the admittedly glorious avenue of chestnut trees, a rather sedate and chintzy sort of life goes on. Elderly East Germans potter through tacky shops in incongruously palatial spaces. The local food shops are mostly run by North Vietnamese, as is the street market that migrates daily between the Kino Cosmos and another spot closer to the Kino International and sells frilly underwear, cheap clothes, watches, meat and cheese.
I'm not leaving Berlin, but I'm on the verge of moving to Kreuzberg. Whenever I go to Kreuzberg, as I did yesterday to shop in my favourite Turkish supermarket, Tek-Mer, I feel a big sense of relief. This is what a city should be! Instead of cars and monumental boulevards, there are narrow 19th century streets milling with people. Instead of shops which shut early there are shops which stay open late. Instead of old people, there are young people. Instead of beauty salons and Mexican restaurants, there are some of the most radical bookshops and art galleries anywhere (NGBK is currently showing an exhibition of art which breaks the law, Legal / Illegal). Instead of clubs and alcohol there are hammams and tea. Instead of Germans, there are Turks.
I love the Turks. I love their food: olive oil, flat aromatic bread, proper chick peas (not the soft German rubbish you can only get in soup), big tubs of plain yoghurt, big cans of garlicky olives, feta cheese, dried figs, tea and rice. I don't much care for the colours and shapes of the packages in German supermarkets, but I love the colours and shapes and smells in Turkish markets, especially the twice-weekly at Maybach-Ufer by the canal. White Europe hasn't had this kind of density, this kind of vitality since the Middle Ages, since Breughel.
I don't care for the western pop music piped into German supermarkets, but the Turkish pop music in Tek-Mer is a delight to listen to. Two songs on my forthcoming album are in Arabic scales, and it's for pretty much the same reason that two years in New York's Chinatown left me with a taste for Cantonese Opera rather than The Strokes. The faces and clothes of people I see in the Turkish quarter are much more appealing to me, aesthetically, than faces and clothes of Germans in a district like Mitte, no matter how trendy, affluent and creative the Germans may be. For much the same reasons I left London, after ten years there, with a Bangladeshi bride, not an English one. The real vitality in London, the really sympathetic people, were out in the ethnic suburbs, in places like Ilford and Woodford, where the Asians were. A European city without at least one immigrant quarter is a dying city, a sad place of senescent blandness, deadening safety, cautious affluence.
I'm moving to Kreuzberg at the earliest opportunity. I also support the idea of Turkey joining the European Union and I hope that when the decision on Turkey's membership is made on December 17th it's a yes vote and a green light. For Europe's sake as much as Turkey's.
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(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 05:02 am (UTC)(Sorry, just talking to myself, please ignore...)
japan china
Date: 2004-10-24 05:29 am (UTC)florian
Re: japan china
Date: 2004-10-24 05:37 am (UTC)Re: japan china
Date: 2004-10-24 12:16 pm (UTC)Rosa.
Kreuzberg/Paris
Date: 2004-10-24 05:44 am (UTC)A couple of days ago I found the tiny Japanese area in Paris and bought a huge daikon. There is something about the emigré neighborhoods in big cities. The culture is concentrated and distilled.
Before moving to France, I had lived in Oakland, California, on the border between Chinatown and the Arab quarter. My building was filled with Caucasian Muslims, mixed Asian families and Rastas. It had a rhythm.
Re: Kreuzberg/Paris
Date: 2004-10-24 05:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 08:03 am (UTC)it's not just what it is-- it's how it smells. and it's how cheaply you can get fresh tomatoes at the street market if you're willing to go in the late afternoon. and it's the eclectic approach to merchandise in the Turkish shops, and the sense at night that there aren't really parties per se, as in the rest of the city, because there's no real need to localize and stratify the nightlife...
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 12:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 08:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 09:20 am (UTC)Some observations on these issues are here:
http://europa.eu.int/comm/economy_finance/events/2004/amsterdam1004/presentations/gros_daniel_amsterdam.pdf
http://www.timbro.se/bokhandel/pdf/9175665646.pdf
I just came back from Shrinking Cities, a big show at Kunst-Werke about post-industrial cities like Leipzig, Liverpool and Detroit. I may blog something about it tomorrow.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 10:27 am (UTC)One wonders--fears--if today's post-industrial cities will become tomorrow's re-industrial cities, if ever the developing world itself becomes post-industrial. Hopefully we might transcend our current idea of industrialization altogether by that time.
As a non-European, I do not feel qualified to comment, but I have some European friends who would likely agree with your assessment. The whole idea of work has to be re-imagined; surely there must be a humane, productive alternative to the European work model and the Japanese/American work model. I'm a bit incredulous over the 'play ethic' concept as a whole--although the distinction between work and toil is an important one.
Side note: Summerisle seems to go nicely with Nico's more autumnal Marble Index on iTunes. Good harvest music. Might carve a Nic-o-lantern (or a Nick-o-lantern) this evening.
Nothing like the marvelous, starchy-sweet smell of the inside of a pumpkin.
Happy Diwali,
W
shrinking cities
Date: 2004-10-24 11:07 am (UTC)Lotsa good info related to this topic can be found here:
http://www.worldchanging.com/
Cheers,
Neil
Re: shrinking cities
Date: 2004-10-24 11:38 am (UTC)http://www.worldchanging.com/archives/001376.html
Neil
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 07:17 pm (UTC)The most frightening number from the first report you link is the projection that by 2025, approximately half the population of Japan will be past working age. While there is some discussion of increasing the level of immigration there is no workable policy yet in place. Many Japanese people believe (absurdly, in my opinion) that robots will be the solution to the problem.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-25 03:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-25 03:24 pm (UTC)If you want a real scare, look at the population figures in sub-Saharan Africa. Entire countries are on the verge of collapsing because there are so few people of working age available to maintain them.
Diverging demographic trends (developing world getting younger, the developed world getting older) do not bode well for future international relations between the two.
W
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 07:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-25 03:12 pm (UTC)Oh, Delaware...
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 03:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 04:33 pm (UTC)In my travels abroad, most populations tend to be a bit more homogeneous than one is accustomed to, especially when one leaves the urban centers (Central America seems to be an exception). This is becoming less true with every year, though.
Even in this small, rural town there are Turks, Mexicans, Indian Sikhs, Chinese, Koreans and Vietnamese--and I think some Russians, Scots, and Bosnians as well. Remote, traditionally homogenous American cities like Lincoln and Tulsa now seem to have recent arrivals of Asian and African communities, which is encouraging to hear.
I look forward to the day when we have an Australian Aborigine neighborhood in Brooklyn and they open up a Witchety Grub bar (they can call it "Little Uluru"). It can be like fondue or something. Some say they taste like peanut butter, but I think they taste like scrambled eggs.
W
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 05:33 pm (UTC)I work at a small private college, so I hear about the population change all the time. Higher ed is trying to bend with the times and accomodate an ever changing demographic.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 06:06 pm (UTC)Zulu:
Saw(u)bonnn-na ('hello')
N'(g)yabonn-ga ('thank you')
Xhosa is very 'clicky'. So is the language of the !Kung bushmen. ('!' usually denotes a click).
W
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 06:32 pm (UTC)Did you ever read Nisa? It's about a !Kung woman. It's a very good read.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 06:53 pm (UTC)I wonder if anyone might care to share with us the most unusual or incongruent immigrant neighborhood they've encountered (say, 'Little Finland' in Rio, or something along those lines)? It always amazes me where people wind up.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 08:22 am (UTC)What a wonderful sentence. I would add (and I think you'd agree) that this observation goes for American cities as well...
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 09:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 11:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 11:57 am (UTC)The Japanese area around St. Mark's place in New York is actually a post-immigrant community--everyone is young, hip, and almost bohemian. It is interestingly comfortable--there is no feeling of cultural tourism, no white guilt about treading where you are not wanted--the people from whom you are buying food dress like you (except more stylish), are as well-educated as you, come from a country that's every bit as rich as yours.
Many of the street vendors in New York's Chinatown are African--Chinatown is, itself, almost monumental, almost a museum. It wears its status gracefully though. Every shop sells cheap imitation jade souveniers and knock-off LVMH luxury goods next to indeterminate chunks of plants and animals that don't even have names in English.
In Washington, DC, most of the immigrant populations are concentrated in the suburbs rather than in the city proper. This leads to a kind of detournement experience of driving to that most American of institutions, the strip-mall, and instead of Dunkin Donuts seeing signs exclusively in Vietnamese, Chinese, Urdu, Arabic, Spanish. The interesting thing is that these "exotic" strip-malls sell essentially the same things as your everday ones do--fast (foreign) food, cheap housewares, drugstores full of herbal remedies or Santeria charms to get rid of the flu, music stores crammed with forgettable pop from the motherland, groceries renting the latest episodes of soap operas you had to tear yourself away from when you came to America. Is that much of culture related to format? If you have to drive to your market, does that make it an American market no matter what's on sale, from where?
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 05:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 12:15 pm (UTC)Re: Turkey in Europe
Date: 2004-10-24 12:30 pm (UTC)Mehmet U
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 06:59 pm (UTC)My knowledge of Turkey is out of date: I travelled there in the late 80's. That trip was the first time I became conscious of the paradoxes of globalization. Only a small percentage of the people I met were eager for the country to westernize (outside of Istanbul). I suppose this has changed, or there would be little discussion of Turkey's entry into the EU. One overwhelming remaining impression I have from the countryside was that the women seemed to be doing alot of hard physical labour (like threshing grain with sticks) while men sat in cafes playing a board game that looked like backgammon.
I enjoyed the tea culture, Turkish breakfasts, and Oriental exoticism. Carpet touts were the main annoyance. It seemed like all roads in Turkey led to a carpet shop, though it still puzzles me that a ragged backpacker barely out of his teens could seem like a potential customer.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-24 08:09 pm (UTC)Turkish delight
Date: 2004-10-24 08:01 pm (UTC)I also hope the Turks in Germany are treated better now than then. What do people think? My Turkish friends and my German relatives are keeping their fingers crossed about that vote. (I wish the blue states in America could join the EU, as well.)
Tangentially, one of the most amusing books I've read this year is Rose Macaulay's The Towers of Trebizond, which takes the reader on an extended trip through Turkey, but is most revealing about Anglo-European attitudes toward the Turks circa 1950 (which sadly don't seem to have been altered all that much). Any fans of that book around here?
Good luck apartment-hunting, Momus.
Towers of Trebizond
Date: 2004-10-24 09:38 pm (UTC)Re: Turkish delight
Date: 2004-10-25 04:30 am (UTC)I remember when in my german textbook when i was learning it at high school there was a short anti-racism story where one kid didnt want to be someones friend because he was a turk, but her best friend lectured her on tolerance and stuff. turks and germans dont mix together too much in berlin, except at school. expats generally feel they´re potentially menacing but theres a peaceful atmosphere in the city that totally dissolves such tensions. most people make fun of their accent.
Me myself Ive tried approaching them but never find too much to talk about. but theyre very definitely ver sweet.
Move to Athens! Woohoo!
Date: 2004-10-25 02:37 am (UTC)I have been rediscovering Athens for the past couple of months, after being in the UK for nine years, and have written a fair bit about it in my blog (http://fufurasu.org/) recently. It includes photos of Takashi Murakami art, Karim Rashid interiors, and spaces "like something out of Momus’s photos of Berlin," all from Athens.
I agree with Mehmet that you would also enjoy going to the source, Istanbul, athough I haven't been there yet so I can't suggest specific spots.
By the way, on the work ethic, I was recently introduced to Bertrand Russell's "In Praise of Idleness" (http://www.zpub.com/notes/idle.html) from 1932.
Re: Move to Athens! Woohoo!
Date: 2004-10-25 03:47 am (UTC)I like the sound of that photography show about the similarities between Athens and Japan, I was riffing on the same theme when I first went to live in Tokyo and compared it to Athens (http://www.imomus.com/thought020501.html).
I'll check your blog now!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-25 04:36 am (UTC)i ll keep my ears peeled for any appartments that go free (i already moved to kreuzberg and it rules)
i recommend you the area around gorlitzer park, or near the river or one of the cannals (did i write that ok?). that s unless you want to live near the busiest parts like kottbuser tor or schonleinstrasse or hermannplatz
would you care to go for a coffee before it gets cold?i ll give you a call one of these days
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-25 04:45 am (UTC)Yeah, Mario, give me a call, I want to see your new pad!
(no subject)
Date: 2004-10-25 09:00 pm (UTC)Ah! Kreuzberg sounds marvelous. I do remember fictional 'Mehmet' from my German I textbook being Turkish, and a short reading included on the Turkish population in Berlin. One of my favorite things about visiting my [Persian] roommate's home was her parents offering me tiny plates with raw almonds, tea, flat bread, and sour cherries to snack on [while I don't know terribly much about Turkish food, it sounds very similar to what people might eat in Iran].
A European city without at least one immigrant quarter is a dying city, a sad place of senescent blandness...
I am so curious to see and explore the ethnic communities of other countries. The United States are unique for the fact that all the different cultures are what make up its identity [but I find it rather disappointing how much of the majority in Los Angeles does not take advantage of the huge Asian supermarkets and their cheap, fresh and varied produce, etc], but to see different cultures mixing in a place that is more aware of how it identifies itself as a country, outside of how many immigrants it may hold, is fascinating.
I've called my suburb of Los Angeles 'the perfect suburb', mostly because there doesn't seem to be any type of food you can't get within 10 minutes of my house [there are Vietnamese, Japanese, all-around Asian, Mexican, African, and Middle Eastern markets and restaurants, tucked into sad strip malls literally everywhere], and I can get my fix for my favorite Japanese magazines, but I wonder if it is really just sad above all because every block is consistently turning into the hellish landscape of corporate America, and I want to crawl under my bed and quiver at the thought of my favorite yakitori hole-in-the-wall being run out of business. Hmm. I haven't decided if immigrant cultures come to Los Angeles to thrive, or to die.
-Aurora