Friday, December 7, 2012

You don’t always need to have bombs and cranes to run down someone’s home.



When I look back to my childhood, in all my greatest memories there is Istanbul. 

We lived in Zonguldak but both my mom and dad had studied in Istanbul and my mom’s close family members were living there. Thus, we very often visit Istanbul during various holidays.

For me a typical wonderful Istanbul day usually started early in the morning because of my dad waking up so early. Then we had a nice breakfast and went out to catch the bus 55T. 55T was my favorite bus when I was a kid because it connected my grandma’s house to Istiklal Street.

The first thing to do in Istiklal Street was to go for a movie for one of the matinees with my dad. Usually mom joined us after the first film since she couldn’t stand seeing two films a day. Therefore, my dad and I picked the morning movie among one of the cool horror films or weird independent films.

The theater choice was also important. Our first choice was to see a film in Emek Theater. I was in love with Emek. Coming from a small city like Zonguldak, it was the most beautiful theater I had ever seen in my life. With its carvings on the walls and ceilings, the smell of history inside, its big white dog on the floor at the entrance, its irreplaceable staff that I have witnessed getting older and older; it was just glamorous to me.

If we didn’t really like the film screened in Emek, we checked the old small theaters, like Beyoglu Theater that had amazing paintings on the walls and insisted on showing films that weren’t screened in most of the big cinemas.

After the first film, the next stop was Mercan in Cicek Pasaji. This was the place where my dad slowly taught me how to properly drink and eat stuffed and fried mussels. To be honest, I initially hated both the mussels and beer when I was a kid. It’s amazing to see that years later Mercan’s mussels became the thing I craved for the most while doing my PhD in Lausanne.

After the mussels and before the next film, we stopped by Inci, which is a small and cozy pastry where the most famous profiteroles in Istanbul are prepared and for me the place that I ate the best profiteroles ever.

After Inci, we saw a second film; this time a romantic one or a drama since my mom was also with us. Then we took 55T back to my snow white grandma.


Later when I had to pick a college for my bachelor’s, of course, I had no other choices than colleges in Istanbul.

Whenever my parents came for a visit, we kept our routine with slight differences like one move instead of two or skipping either Mercan or Inci. We added more people to our routine from friends and family and enjoyed this routine more and more.

I kept finding myself in small theaters like Beyoglu whenever I felt depressed or had a problem; most of the time being the only one in the theater. They were the perfect hiding places for me; made me felt like I was at a safe place, I had peace, I was with family, I was home.

Among all the festival films I watched during college, the ones shown in Emek gave me a more distinct joy and happiness.

Often times I preferred eating a profiterole at Inci instead of eating a proper meal when I was in Istiklal Street.


Now I am in grad school in Lausanne and this routine is always the most important thing in my TODO list when I visit home, which is completely Istanbul now since my parents also live there.

During my first year I managed to perform this routine completely.

During my second year, Emek Theater was closed.

During my third year, Beyoglu Theater was decided to be closed.

Now I am in my fourth year and Inci Pastry is closing down.


You don’t always destroy one’s home by using dangerous weapons or big machinery in one shot. You can destroy it very slowly and painfully over the years; by cutting the ropes that give the real idea of attachment, belonging, and hence home one by one.

I didn’t decide to do my PhD abroad to leave home. I came here to eventually come back home as a more resourceful individual. However, people who are somehow chosen to represent me by people other than me are crashing down not just my home but also other homes, passion of many, and soul and history of Istanbul by destroying various landmarks.

And I cannot do anything against it.

We cannot do anything against it.

Please tell me to which home I am going to be back to in a couple of years or later?