Opinions

The more things change, the more they stay the same

I love waking up to the sounds of the city. Early morning sunshine streams through our house as the occasional car or bus zooms by. Birds chirp while cats pad around then slink away. Simitçi stroll up and down the streets with their precariously balanced wares atop their heads, their cries breaking the near-silence and echoing about the neighborhood.

That, my friends, is a sound unique to Turkey.

When I first arrived in Ankara about two months ago, I was almost surprised the first morning when I heard the simitçi. I had expected the profession to be something of a dying art form, which it arguably is, but I still didn't expect to spot so many downtown.

Even though four years have passed since my last visit to Turkey, I am glad to see that the underlying essence of the country hasn't changed.

Sure, globalization and advanced technology have taken their toll. The last time I was here, Abercrombie and Fitch wasn't so ubiquitous. My babaanne and dede weren't ordering takeout once a week from the Domino's Pizza down the street. People weren't carrying around PDAs, touch-screen telephones, and MP3 players. But those changes were to be expected.

I thrill at the fact that the Turkish people have more or less remained the same. The men still act macho but not to the degree where they can't hug and kiss their best friends in public, or cruise together on Vespas, which always makes me giggle. The shopkeepers still offer a glass of çay in exchange for time and tales. The families are still close-knit. Nazarlık is still omnipresent, baklava still available almost everywhere, heck, şalvar were not only available in stores, they were in style this past summer!

The food is still delectably awesome, although I would like to question this new fad of serving French fries with every meal. (When did this happen ? I order a kebap and it's garnished with fast food!)

And, I love that there are certain places that are still standing, if a bit altered.

As I alluded to before, I am no stranger to Ankara. My father moved to the States when he was 17, but his entire family remained in Turkey. As a result, I have made several trips here over my lifetime.

I remember the Bestekar Sokak of 10 years ago because my grandparents used to live there. My family was old friends with the erkek kuaför across the street. Every visit, early in the morning my father would head over to get beautified by the same man who used to cut his hair during childhood. The shop has long since closed, and the developing nightlife scared my grandparents away from the area. I'm not sure how much my babaanne exaggerates but she mentioned prostitutes and murderers. It sounds like a TV show to me!

I remember Karum back when it was one of the popular malls. Since it is located right across the street from my family's club, I have spent a good amount of time there. I fainted in the jewelry store on the first floor when my earrings were changed for the first time. I bought a peace sign T-shirt from OXXO when I was a young teen. My grandparents and I just had dinner in Karum the other night at the little café on the ground floor, and all the old shops were still there.

Talk about memories and flashbacks. My dad flew in over Şeker Bayram weekend to spend time with the family and celebrate my grandparent's 55th wedding anniversary. As we drove around the city with our taxi chauffer, he told me stories of where he would play as a child, where his school and friends' houses were located, and the streets he would take home.

As he commented on how extraordinary it is that over 30 years have passed and the basic city structure hasn’t altered, the driver pitched in:

"The roads never change. Buildings are constantly being demolished and reconstructed, but the streets remain the same."

As the taxi driver pulled onto our street, I felt a sense of ease. The streets may be a bit rough here and there, but the şoför bey had a good point. They almost serve as a reminder of the past of the city. My dad might have been flying out again, but I won't be alone. I have my family. And although the city may have changed on the surface, in appearance, politics, technology, etc., I feel like I've come home to an old friend.

By Okşan Alpdemir (IR/III)