Between my friends and me, we had childhood games like jumping rope, playing hopscotch. The guys twirled tops. I wanted to twirl tops like boys but could not do it. The mothers of my friends made cloth dolls. We would draw eyes and eyebrows on these cloth dolls and play with them. Because my older sister was a tailor, she would give us the leftover fabrics. We would weave floor mats with those ropes. During summer months, in order to earn my allowance, I would nail wood boards and make cases to put the oranges that our neighbor gathered from the citrus groves. Tomatoes or peppers were also placed in those cases. I would wrap candy in papers (Grocers would wrap candy in a thin paper before selling it. This way, it would prevent the candies from sticking to each other). Again during the summer months, I would go to my older sister, and do overcasting [a simple sewing technique to prevent the unraveling of fabrics]. In this way I earned my allowance.
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Displaying 41971 - 42000 of 50826 results
Rebeka Evgin
My mother never went to the market. She would shop from the vendors who passed in front of our house, and my father would come home with his arms full every evening. Plastic bags were not invented yet, shopping was done with baskets. Buying bread from the bakery was my job. Taking the lahmacuns [A type of thin pizza where ground beef, onions, tomatoes and peppers are spread on a thin round piece of dough, and baked. This used to be a southern food in the old times. Today you can find it at every corner in Istanbul] that my mother prepared with kosher beef, to the bakery was one of my chores too. My mother would prepare sponge cake [a type of cake made with eggs, flour and sugar. It rises because the eggs are beaten for a while, vanilla extract, mahaleb or mastic can also be added], taking it to the bakery was mine too. When I remember my childhood days, the scent of the lahmacun and the beautiful sight of the sponge cake come to my mind.
The hamams of Adana were very beautiful. Going to the hamam was an event in itself. We had special hamam combs, towels and clogs. We would pick our embroidered bundles, and would go as if we were going to a picnic. The people of Adana are dark skinned. I, on the other hand, was as white as could be. In the hamam, everyone would gather around me and joke to my mom “did you adopt this girl, she doesn’t look like anyone”. [In the old times, adoption is the process when children with no parents were taken in, not as servants but to be raised as the child of the house. These children also helped with housework]. Taking a bath was another problem when we did not go to the hamam. Water would be boiled in pots on top of coal stoves, there was a toilet in the garden. My mother would place the pot, mix up the hot water with the cold, and bathe all her children one by one. Later on we started bathing ourselves.
I loved reading a lot but when I was into books trying to read them with the light from these lamps at night time, my mother used to say “are you going to become a bad woman, reading and reading all the time”. It was believed that women would become knowledgeable by reading and be more open to the outside world by that knowledge. In short, having girls with open minds was not a desirable thing. A very shrewd girl would not obey her family at first and then her husband. She will become independent and then go off the correct path, it was believed. I really loved reading novels but my mother would always turn off the night light.
In our house the floors were made of wood. This wood was called planks. Starting at the age of 10, mopping this wood was my chore. The floors would be scrubbed by brush, and after the dirt was cleared, would be painted with yellow paint. It would become bright yellow. Our relationship with our neighbors was very good. The biggest pastime of those days were visits to neighbors and relatives anyways. The children would visit with them too. It becomes very hot in Adana in summer. We would sleep on the balconies in summer. Our balconies on the upper floors were almost interlocking with the balconies of the house next door. The young people in Adana never looked at us with bad intentions. They would call us sister [“baci”-- a term used in Turkish to address people who are not siblings which indicates that they are considered as siblings], and loved us like siblings. They even protected us in the market. Girls and boys forming relationships was frowned upon. It was not correct to talk with not only Muslim young men, but with Jewish young men also.
In our house the floors were made of wood. This wood was called planks. Starting at the age of 10, mopping this wood was my chore. The floors would be scrubbed by brush, and after the dirt was cleared, would be painted with yellow paint. It would become bright yellow. Our relationship with our neighbors was very good. The biggest pastime of those days were visits to neighbors and relatives anyways. The children would visit with them too. It becomes very hot in Adana in summer. We would sleep on the balconies in summer. Our balconies on the upper floors were almost interlocking with the balconies of the house next door. The young people in Adana never looked at us with bad intentions. They would call us sister [“baci”-- a term used in Turkish to address people who are not siblings which indicates that they are considered as siblings], and loved us like siblings. They even protected us in the market. Girls and boys forming relationships was frowned upon. It was not correct to talk with not only Muslim young men, but with Jewish young men also.
Our house had three stories. We rented it. A different family resided on each floor. We, three siblings, slept in the same room. There was no running water, we would pull up water from the outside pumps and carry it home. Our neighbors planted in the garden. Laundry was done by hand and washed with rain water, and this laundry that was washed using bluing would be hung in the wind to dry. There was no electricity in our house, we used kerosene lamps that we called night lights.
Adana was a really wealthy city. Wheat and cotton was planted. Depending on the season, Adana would either be covered in yellow with wheat or white with cotton. Citrus groves, vineyards and vineyard houses are like Adana’s symbols. All of the houses had gardens. My mother would gather the eggs from the chickens in the coop and have us drink them raw. There was a statue of Ataturk [6] in the plaza. The street going all the way to the station was surrounded by citrus groves. Stores were in this area. In the area which was called the Old Station, there was a neighborhood called Dipdil. Darker skinned people who talked mostly Arabic lived in this area. We called them “fellah” [peasant/ negro]. They wore baggy trousers, the tough guys among them gathered sugar canes. Later on they would gather the sugarcanes together, tie them up and play games among themselves to break them in two. The Jews did not have much to do with them. Jews dealt in commerce mostly. Our street was wide or it seemed that way to me from a child’s perspective. The side streets were narrow. The floors were cobblestone or dirt. There were very, very few cars. Transportation was mostly done by horse carriages. Horses would poop in the streets. We would gather the horse dung and dry it under the sun. This was called dried horse dung. This dried horse dung was burned in stoves afterwards.
Georgian recipes:
GALYA SHIHNA
Ingredients: 1 kg potatoes
4 onions
½ kg blade steak
2 eggs
Salt and pepper to taste
Fry the potatoes that have been cut in rounds in oil in pan. Slice the onions in rounds too, and cook in oil until softened. Salt the meat and cook it separately. Stack one layer potatoes, one layer onions, and cooked meat on top in a pan. Beat two eggs and pour on top. Cook over low heat.
STUFFED GRAPE LEAVES WITH YOGHURT
Ingredients: 2 cups rice
dill weed
2 medium onions
mint
salt and pepper to taste
250 gr. grape leaves
Boil the grape leaves. Slice the onions thinly and cook in oil, add rice, mint, dill weed, salt and pepper to make the filling. The leaves are filled with this filling and rolled. For two cups rice, you put 4 cups water to cook. While serving, you pour yoghurt beaten with a little garlic and sizzling melted butter on the plates.
BORCH
Ingredients: Beef broth or bone marrow broth
Cabbage
Lentils
Garbanzo beans
Homemade noodles
Salt and pepper to taste
Bring the broth to boil. Soak the garbanzo beans the night before. Wash the cabbage and cut it in bite size pieces. Add to the broth and cook to prepare the soup.
SHILLECE
It is a Passover meal.
Ingredients: Chicken broth
Swiss chard
Rice
Turmeric
Salt and pepper to taste
Bring the chicken broth to boil. Wash the chard and cut into bite size pieces. Add chard and rice to chicken broth. Add salt, pepper and turmeric.
GOZLEME (THIN PANCAKE)
Ingredients: 2 eggs
2 cups flour
2/3 cups milk
Slightly fermented grape juice, molasses, honey
Mix the eggs and flour with milk. It becomes a soft dough. Fry in oil in pan in pancake style rounds. Add fermented grape juice, molasses or honey as desired, to eat.
ZIRREDOSH
Ingredients: 250 gr. walnuts
2 eggs
1 cup sugar
A knob of turmeric
Mix all ingredients to make paste. Shape with hands to serve.
GALYA SHIHNA
Ingredients: 1 kg potatoes
4 onions
½ kg blade steak
2 eggs
Salt and pepper to taste
Fry the potatoes that have been cut in rounds in oil in pan. Slice the onions in rounds too, and cook in oil until softened. Salt the meat and cook it separately. Stack one layer potatoes, one layer onions, and cooked meat on top in a pan. Beat two eggs and pour on top. Cook over low heat.
STUFFED GRAPE LEAVES WITH YOGHURT
Ingredients: 2 cups rice
dill weed
2 medium onions
mint
salt and pepper to taste
250 gr. grape leaves
Boil the grape leaves. Slice the onions thinly and cook in oil, add rice, mint, dill weed, salt and pepper to make the filling. The leaves are filled with this filling and rolled. For two cups rice, you put 4 cups water to cook. While serving, you pour yoghurt beaten with a little garlic and sizzling melted butter on the plates.
BORCH
Ingredients: Beef broth or bone marrow broth
Cabbage
Lentils
Garbanzo beans
Homemade noodles
Salt and pepper to taste
Bring the broth to boil. Soak the garbanzo beans the night before. Wash the cabbage and cut it in bite size pieces. Add to the broth and cook to prepare the soup.
SHILLECE
It is a Passover meal.
Ingredients: Chicken broth
Swiss chard
Rice
Turmeric
Salt and pepper to taste
Bring the chicken broth to boil. Wash the chard and cut into bite size pieces. Add chard and rice to chicken broth. Add salt, pepper and turmeric.
GOZLEME (THIN PANCAKE)
Ingredients: 2 eggs
2 cups flour
2/3 cups milk
Slightly fermented grape juice, molasses, honey
Mix the eggs and flour with milk. It becomes a soft dough. Fry in oil in pan in pancake style rounds. Add fermented grape juice, molasses or honey as desired, to eat.
ZIRREDOSH
Ingredients: 250 gr. walnuts
2 eggs
1 cup sugar
A knob of turmeric
Mix all ingredients to make paste. Shape with hands to serve.
, Türkiye
We heard about the massacre in Neve Shalom [11] on the radio. It is very sad that people who are in a temple only for praying are subjected to violence. My granddaughter Elsa let us know about the attacks on November 15th [12] from abroad. I had the same emotions again.
One of the biggest turning points of my life was my marriage to Erdal Evgin. Erdal was a business major and a very decent person. We lived in Kurtulus. He had lost his wife too. But he had taken a step towards remarrying, and was living with a very attractive lady named Viki. We were friends. Erdal went on a trip and brought me a perfume and a scarf. My son commented immediately “mom, a man who brings perfume from a trip has different intentions”. “Don’t be silly”, I scolded my son. One Sunday morning, I left home and saw Erdal at the window. When I saw him at the window again on my return, I asked “where is Viki?”. He sighed, “We separated”. I went up home. A few minutes later the phone rang. It was Erdal calling. He said he wanted to talk to me.
We met at the corner, entered a pastry shop. He went right to the point. He explained that he wanted to marry me. I was surprised, I asked him to give me some time. When I returned home, I told my daughter Erdal’s offer. She reacted by saying “They will say that Elsa’s grandmother has married a Muslim” . But Erdal’s family did not react like this at all. Because Erdal’s first wife was also Jewish. I wrote a letter to Erdal’s first wife’s sister who lived in Israel. And I asked her permission for this marriage. I received a positive reply right away. I faced my daughter and convinced her by explaining the difficulties of being alone. In this way, Erdal and I had a civil marriage ceremony. He introduced me to his family. We really loved each other a lot.
Erdal was a person who knew the Jewish traditions and who was very respectful. And I respected his holidays, and the holy nights when the minarets are illuminated. Erdal would not drink alcohol during the Ramadan. My friends also obeyed this rule when we went to a restaurant during this period. We had our most important memory when we bought the flat that we are living in now. The people who sold us the flat thought I was Muslim, and Erdal Jewish. When they saw that my name was Rebeka on the deed, they were surprised. We only had Jewish neighbors in the building. During Passover, Erdal would fill the trunk of the car with spinach and leeks, and distribute it to everyone.
We went to Cleveland with Erdal during a trip to the United States that we had planned and had his heart checked. This is my fate I think; we stayed in Cleveland for 3 weeks and dealt with heart problems. After we came back, we repeated this trip and had wonderful memories. One morning, he put on his best suit and went to work. He looked in the mirror. “You are very handsome, my husband”, I said. A few hours later I received a phone call from his work place. He was already in the hospital and there was nothing to be done. The only thing the doctor said was “you are lucky, ma’am, if he had lived, he was definitely going to be paralyzed”.
We met at the corner, entered a pastry shop. He went right to the point. He explained that he wanted to marry me. I was surprised, I asked him to give me some time. When I returned home, I told my daughter Erdal’s offer. She reacted by saying “They will say that Elsa’s grandmother has married a Muslim” . But Erdal’s family did not react like this at all. Because Erdal’s first wife was also Jewish. I wrote a letter to Erdal’s first wife’s sister who lived in Israel. And I asked her permission for this marriage. I received a positive reply right away. I faced my daughter and convinced her by explaining the difficulties of being alone. In this way, Erdal and I had a civil marriage ceremony. He introduced me to his family. We really loved each other a lot.
Erdal was a person who knew the Jewish traditions and who was very respectful. And I respected his holidays, and the holy nights when the minarets are illuminated. Erdal would not drink alcohol during the Ramadan. My friends also obeyed this rule when we went to a restaurant during this period. We had our most important memory when we bought the flat that we are living in now. The people who sold us the flat thought I was Muslim, and Erdal Jewish. When they saw that my name was Rebeka on the deed, they were surprised. We only had Jewish neighbors in the building. During Passover, Erdal would fill the trunk of the car with spinach and leeks, and distribute it to everyone.
We went to Cleveland with Erdal during a trip to the United States that we had planned and had his heart checked. This is my fate I think; we stayed in Cleveland for 3 weeks and dealt with heart problems. After we came back, we repeated this trip and had wonderful memories. One morning, he put on his best suit and went to work. He looked in the mirror. “You are very handsome, my husband”, I said. A few hours later I received a phone call from his work place. He was already in the hospital and there was nothing to be done. The only thing the doctor said was “you are lucky, ma’am, if he had lived, he was definitely going to be paralyzed”.
My son had a very severe cold when he was 9 years old. He developed nephritis [kidney infection] after the cold. I encountered a lot of difficulty for his therapy. We went from doctor to doctor, the levels would not go down. A Greek doctor started a new therapy. This time the leukocytes [white blood cells—they fight the infection] went down, and the kid felt better. In reality, this doctor took a big risk, and gave my child cortisone without letting us know. Truthfully, if you think about the side effects of cortisone, the fact that a mother is kept in the dark about it could lead the patient to very dangerous directions. After this event, my son had to be raised with more care. I did everything I could until he got married.
After he was married, I did not concern myself with my son like I used to, so I would not be meddling in their lives. All of a sudden, it was found out that one of his kidneys was not functioning. We started going from doctor to doctor again, and it was decided that he needed dialysis. He contracted hepatities during the dialysis. My son was in a very bad state. You could say he was on his deathbed. They called me to their home and said they were going to India. India has an abundance of donors and it is a country that is advancing technologically. When we reached India with an ambulance, a Turkish doctor received us and took us to the barracks where the operation was going to be done. You might find the term barracks a bit of an exaggeration. But it was really a very dirty, primitive environment for such a surgery. All the preparations were done, and the kidney transplant operation took place.
India is a poor country, where the destitute have trouble finding food. The donors think they can buy a car to take tourists around or a small kiosk to prepare food to sell outdoors with the money they receive, to get on with their lives. But the pleasant demeanor and encouragement the people provide is really outstanding. The streets are full of people at peace with themselves. The doctors know the techniques very well, they have been educated at top levels in the world. The nurses do not have beds to sleep in but they are trying their best to serve. And I gained a new life experience by staying there a long time. Some of the things I did to support my son during that period was misunderstood by some people and they hurt me by calling me “a carefree woman”. However, it is much better for a son to see his mother in a good mood than nervous and sulking. My son could not understand the seriousness of his situation when he saw me with lipstick and a happy face. I never asked but I know that the necessary financial help was provided by a campaign in the Jewish community but my son and I never discussed this face to face.
After he was married, I did not concern myself with my son like I used to, so I would not be meddling in their lives. All of a sudden, it was found out that one of his kidneys was not functioning. We started going from doctor to doctor again, and it was decided that he needed dialysis. He contracted hepatities during the dialysis. My son was in a very bad state. You could say he was on his deathbed. They called me to their home and said they were going to India. India has an abundance of donors and it is a country that is advancing technologically. When we reached India with an ambulance, a Turkish doctor received us and took us to the barracks where the operation was going to be done. You might find the term barracks a bit of an exaggeration. But it was really a very dirty, primitive environment for such a surgery. All the preparations were done, and the kidney transplant operation took place.
India is a poor country, where the destitute have trouble finding food. The donors think they can buy a car to take tourists around or a small kiosk to prepare food to sell outdoors with the money they receive, to get on with their lives. But the pleasant demeanor and encouragement the people provide is really outstanding. The streets are full of people at peace with themselves. The doctors know the techniques very well, they have been educated at top levels in the world. The nurses do not have beds to sleep in but they are trying their best to serve. And I gained a new life experience by staying there a long time. Some of the things I did to support my son during that period was misunderstood by some people and they hurt me by calling me “a carefree woman”. However, it is much better for a son to see his mother in a good mood than nervous and sulking. My son could not understand the seriousness of his situation when he saw me with lipstick and a happy face. I never asked but I know that the necessary financial help was provided by a campaign in the Jewish community but my son and I never discussed this face to face.
My son, when he was a tourist guide was changing girlfriends frequently. Just like captains who find a lover at every port, tourist guides return with a different girlfriend from every trip they take. This situation worried me of course. My uncle’s granddaughter Rachel was a beautiful girl, she had come to Istanbul from Adana, and did not have much of a social circle. She and my son met. This was a type of matchmaking [proposition—families deciding first and the children marrying in a short time]. But my son went out with Rachel for a while after meeting her, they did not decide within three days like in the old times. They got to know each other and fell in love.
They had a happy life. Rachel could have been a working woman, preschool teacher was an ideal career for a woman. But my son did not budge from the principle “I will not allow my wife to work” even though he was an open-minded person. His wife became a good homemaker.
They had a happy life. Rachel could have been a working woman, preschool teacher was an ideal career for a woman. But my son did not budge from the principle “I will not allow my wife to work” even though he was an open-minded person. His wife became a good homemaker.
My son was grown up too then. One morning when I went to work, I left the siblings at home arguing. The two siblings got along well usually. That morning they started verbally arguing about an insignificant, small thing. In reality it was a period when my nerves were really wrought. I told my son not to be lazy. When I returned home in the evening, I saw my son with a bundle of money in his hand. I asked “What is this money?”. “I started working”, he said. He decided to become a tourist guide. His first job was to take tourists to the Dardanelles [a city on the Aegean coast, where the Dardanelles strait connects the Marmara Sea to the Aegean. The Dardanelles strait divides Turkey into European and Asian sides just like the Bosphorus]. The firm where he worked had given him the hotel and excursion money for the tourists. In this way he earned his living by being a guide for a long time and continued his studies. During this time he got engaged and broke up once. The girl he got engaged to had different expectations about life. The discord between them ended with separation. He married the granddaughter of my uncle Sami.
Sara was raised quite conservatively by her father. She was only allowed to the movies on Saturdays. Sundays were for homework. We used to go to Cinarcik in summers then. The mother and father of my son-in-law, Mordo Altaras were also there. Mordo Altaras was there too. He was dating a girl. The father-in-law knew my husband. He said this to his son: “You leave that girl, and see if you can arrange to go out with the girl downstairs”. They started going out together. They exchanged phone numbers on our return from Cinarcik. They had bonded, Mordo started calling continuously. I tried to keep the peace despite the opposition of the father. Her father did not want his daughter’s education to suffer. She had been accepted to Notre Dame de Sion Highschool [French Catholic school] without a test because of her high grade point average at St. Pulcherie [French Catholic school]. But that year, because of Mordo’s phone calls and going out, she failed her first year of highschool.
Her Dad did not know she was dating. If he knew, he would kill me first. One Saturday, she came a little late. Her father turned to me and said: “If this girl is seeing someone, I will first kill her, then myself”. He was so rigid. He was a very good father, a very good husband, but he was very conservative. I acquiesced, I was raised in such an environment anyways. But when it came to Sara, we had to formalize this union. She was only 16 years old. Her father who was at Sara’s engagement, unfortunately could not witness her wedding. The day Sara was married was a beautiful day, my brother-in-law and older sister held the thallis. In this way, my older sister happened to hold the thallis for me and my daughter. I was wearing a violet-blue lace dress, navy blue shoes and purse, and a salmon colored hat at the wedding. I was very well-dressed but everyone pitied me. I don’t like being pitied at all. Sara was wearing a simple wedding gown, the best part of the dress was the veil. We celebrated by having a family dinner in the evening.
Her Dad did not know she was dating. If he knew, he would kill me first. One Saturday, she came a little late. Her father turned to me and said: “If this girl is seeing someone, I will first kill her, then myself”. He was so rigid. He was a very good father, a very good husband, but he was very conservative. I acquiesced, I was raised in such an environment anyways. But when it came to Sara, we had to formalize this union. She was only 16 years old. Her father who was at Sara’s engagement, unfortunately could not witness her wedding. The day Sara was married was a beautiful day, my brother-in-law and older sister held the thallis. In this way, my older sister happened to hold the thallis for me and my daughter. I was wearing a violet-blue lace dress, navy blue shoes and purse, and a salmon colored hat at the wedding. I was very well-dressed but everyone pitied me. I don’t like being pitied at all. Sara was wearing a simple wedding gown, the best part of the dress was the veil. We celebrated by having a family dinner in the evening.
After 15 years of marriage, my husband first had kidney stone surgery, he had surgery in a private hospital. After about a month, he had chest pains one night. We called the doctor, medicine was not as advanced then. He was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. Bypass procedure was not developed much in the 70’s. When we were married, my older sister, my brother-in-law, my mother, myself and my husband lived in the same house. When the children were born, we couldn’t fit in one house any more. My husband and I first moved to Taksim [a neighborhood in central Istanbul]. Mostly people who came to work from the United States lived in Taksim, Kazanci Hill. I was very young. My husband’s friends said “Mordo, are you crazy? How can you live here, they will hit on your wife. You will have no peace”. So we moved to Kurtulus, a short while later. I would wait my husband’s arrival on the hill every evening, and take the bags from his hands.
One evening, after dinner, Sara went out with her fiance. My husband wanted to lie down. I thought he did not look well, so I called Sara back home. When I came back from the telephone, it was over already. I lived through a huge shock. I really did not know what to do. The cure for depression is in working, apparently. I started going to work after so many years. My brother-in-law warned me “to wear a coat over pants to go to work”. I know that a porter accompanied me to work every morning from the boat in Karakoy, and every evening from work to the boat again. 8 years passed like this. When my first grandchild Elsa was born, I left work.
One evening, after dinner, Sara went out with her fiance. My husband wanted to lie down. I thought he did not look well, so I called Sara back home. When I came back from the telephone, it was over already. I lived through a huge shock. I really did not know what to do. The cure for depression is in working, apparently. I started going to work after so many years. My brother-in-law warned me “to wear a coat over pants to go to work”. I know that a porter accompanied me to work every morning from the boat in Karakoy, and every evening from work to the boat again. 8 years passed like this. When my first grandchild Elsa was born, I left work.
We were living in Sishane during the events of 6-7 September events [10]. We had Greek neighbors. Our doorman wrapped himself up in the Turkish flag, and said “if you enter through this door, you trample the flag”. Our house was saved from looters in this way. The scene in Beyoglu was horrendous. The cakes and chocolates of the pastry shops were all over the streets. The thought “we weren’t able to afford them, you don’t eat them too” was prevalent. The furs, jewelry on the ground, people desolate. It was said that this event happened because of a few looters. The government defended itself like that.
My life was spent at home, working and raising children. My husband was an extremely good person. We used to go to the movies, to the theatres, to musical entertainments. We used to buy bulk tickets [tickets bought at the beginning of the season, for movies playing at a certain time and certain day in a movie theatre throughout the year]. We used to dress in our best clothes to go to the movies. On musical nights, we would watch artists like Perihan Altindag Sozeri, Adnan Senses [Turkish Classical Music performers]. It was a privelege to go to the matinees in Maksim Casino [the most famous casino of the times]. The matinees were for ladies only on Wednesdays, and ladies and gentlemen on Sundays. Women’s matinees were a complete chaos. Food would be prepared at home, the artists would perform different routines. We used to go to Cinarcik [a vacation area close to Istanbul] in summers. The sea was clear blue. We had fun with our friends. The men came only for the weekends.
Meanwhile the years passed. They had left Samsun and had started working in Tahtakale [A neighborhood in Istanbul where the heart of commerce lies. All kinds of things are sold in this neighborhood. A business market, especially ready-made clothing is sold in Tahtakale. In addition, especially young men, when they finish their education, start working with a boss they call the master in Tahtakale. Later on, they establish their own business. They call the young who have not been educated much, graduates of Tahtakale University. Boys would work as apprentices during the summer months to learn a trade. But not with their father, it was more appropriate to go with a relative. In this way, it was thought that they would adapt better to business]. On a day when they come to visit our house, Yakup Murat sees and likes my older sister. At that time, neither my older sister nor I have any dowry [the money given when girls marry]. The Murat family is a wealthy family.
My older sister accepted her fate and married in the Sisli synagogue [5]. I had an outfit made from pink moire. My older sister rented a wedding gown from Eliya Pardo [A place in Kuledibi where women rented wedding and engagement gowns, and men tuxes]. My older sister Sara and my brother-in-law Yakup rented a house in Sisane and started living there. My older sister became the means for my marriage, too. Because I married Yakup Murat’s brother Mordehay Murat. Sisters became sisters-in-law. Sara and Yakup Murat had two sons named Yosi and Hertzel. Yosi, after finishing St. Michel French Highschool [French Catholic school] went to Belgium and attended university there. He works in the university as a researcher and academic employee. Hertzel on the other hand finished St. Benoit French Highschool [French Catholic school], he continues his father’s business in Istanbul.
My older sister accepted her fate and married in the Sisli synagogue [5]. I had an outfit made from pink moire. My older sister rented a wedding gown from Eliya Pardo [A place in Kuledibi where women rented wedding and engagement gowns, and men tuxes]. My older sister Sara and my brother-in-law Yakup rented a house in Sisane and started living there. My older sister became the means for my marriage, too. Because I married Yakup Murat’s brother Mordehay Murat. Sisters became sisters-in-law. Sara and Yakup Murat had two sons named Yosi and Hertzel. Yosi, after finishing St. Michel French Highschool [French Catholic school] went to Belgium and attended university there. He works in the university as a researcher and academic employee. Hertzel on the other hand finished St. Benoit French Highschool [French Catholic school], he continues his father’s business in Istanbul.
Miryam was born in Damascus in 1920. Miryam was a tailor. She sewed for the most famous people in Adana. She married my cousin Mois Daniyelzade. The family objected to this marriage. Because they were cousins with Mois, and in addition they dated. Dating was frowned upon in those days. When they went out, Miryam would take me with them. She would meet Mois with the pretext of taking her sister out. She would ask me not to mention this to my mother. In time my mother accepted this union. They left for Israel too, after they were married. Miryam continued working in Israel. Mois who was a sophisticated man on the other hand, could not find work and started working in construction. First he settled in Hertzelia. He started living in a small house with the opportunities that the Israeli government provided him. Later he moved to Holon with the money he earned. But Hertzelia became a city that bloomed. And my older sister lost this opportunity that was given to her. They had children named Suzan, Yosi (my father’s name), Yayir (her father-in-law’s name) and Hertzel. Suzan and Yosi were born in Istanbul, Yayir and Hertzel in Israel.
These siblings who immigrated to Israel, started meeting up and socializing with each other. They were together often on holidays. Even though each one had their own lifestyle, the siblings and their spouses were very happy being together. My uncle Simon and Miryam came to visit Bodrum this past summer. From there, they came to Istanbul to visit with us too.
These siblings who immigrated to Israel, started meeting up and socializing with each other. They were together often on holidays. Even though each one had their own lifestyle, the siblings and their spouses were very happy being together. My uncle Simon and Miryam came to visit Bodrum this past summer. From there, they came to Istanbul to visit with us too.
Simon Babakardash was born in Damascus in 1925. He left for Israel during the Wealth Tax [4]. First he learned the language in the kibbutz. He married a lady named Margeurite that he met in the kibbutz and became a traffic cop. He was a handsome young man. There was no one in Tel-Aviv who did not know him. He was always in the very front during ceremonies. He always received support packages during the war years. Margeurite was a smart woman. My older brother had gone to his mother-in-law’s house as a live-in son-in-law. He had two children named Eti and Yosi. Eti was a make-up artist. Yosi on the other hand had a certificate on diamonds. He worked in the stock market. He decided to go to the United States. He planned on doing the same work there. One night when he was going home with a bag full of money and diamonds, he was attacked by blacks. He tried to resist giving the bag to the blacks but did not succeed. The blacks killed him right there. Yosi was newly married. His mother Margeurite was extremely upset from this event and died a short while later.
I am the fifth child of my family. Avraam and Yakoov are the sons of my father from his first wife, they are my brothers from the same father, but different mothers. They weren’t very happy about my mother and father getting married. They thought that since my mother was a young woman, she would have a lot of children. They manipulated the dry goods and notions store the way they wanted and during a period when my father was ill, they used it to further their own financial benefits. My father sold fabrics by meters during that time, he opened up a small store and earned our living. He did not have a fabric store any more when I was able to remember. He had a small grocery store and earned his living from this store. They say that Avram Babaoglu resembles my father a lot. When I went to Israel in 1977, I saw my older brother after a lot of long years. He had already grown old. During the years Avram Babaoglu immigrated to Israel, Israel had not even become a nation, it was under the protection of the British, it was a place of war and poverty. Going there seemed like an adventure more or less.
, Türkiye
Israel was going through the birth pains of a country newly established. My mother was a well-liked woman. Her sons-in-law treated her with a lot of respect. There were shortages and poverty in Israel during those years. A country is getting established on one hand, it is growing economically on the other hand, and the people live concentrating on their own problems. It saddened her that she did not receive from her daughters-in-law the close attention she had from her sons-in-law, that she could not find the relationships with her neighbors and family that she was used to in Istanbul, and that she could not speak Hebrew as much as she needed. My mother settled in a house that the Israeli government provided for her as a result of my older brothers’ efforts and died in her own home in 1958.
Avram Babaoglu, who was my father’s brother, never had children. Therefore he was very fond of me. And he wanted to adopt me. They even had a confrontation with my father about this subject. My father had promised that if he had another daughter, he would register the child with his brother Avram Babaoglu to enable him to adopt her. When I was born, my uncle had verbalized his wish, but my father had not warmed up to the idea. When my father died, this time my uncle felt a debt towards me and the family in his conscience, and came to Istanbul to take us under his wing. This way, someone from his family would get his inheritance. His wife Mina wanted to adopt a niece from her side of the family. During this time, it became imperative for us to move to Istanbul. It was the beginning of World War II. There were blackouts. My mother sold everything to pay for the move and we came to Istanbul all together. Avram Babaoglu took us under his wing.
My aunt Mina hosted us very graciously but she wanted to adopt the daughter of her sister who had passed away. Some friction started at that point. Yet this adoption did not take place with my getting married at a young age. Mina could not adopt her own niece, either. In fact, after my uncle died, Mina settled in Israel. My mother, after marrying my older sister and me in Istanbul, went to live with her sons in Israel claiming “it is a shame to live in the house of your son-in-law”.
My aunt Mina hosted us very graciously but she wanted to adopt the daughter of her sister who had passed away. Some friction started at that point. Yet this adoption did not take place with my getting married at a young age. Mina could not adopt her own niece, either. In fact, after my uncle died, Mina settled in Israel. My mother, after marrying my older sister and me in Istanbul, went to live with her sons in Israel claiming “it is a shame to live in the house of your son-in-law”.
My mother had lost her first husband in the war. My uncle Nesim Ipekel took her under his wing. When my uncle met my father and became friends with him, he found him appropriate for his niece. He said “Look, he has two children but he is wealthy, and a very good person. Get married, you will be comfortable”. She agreed to marry my father because of poverty, the stress of being a widow, and most importantly, not being able to contradict the words of your family elder. My father was a friend of my uncle’s family. In an era when family relationships were very strong, the families’ decisions were applied. There was no such thing as dating then of course. You couldn’t even think about women working. The best reference for women was being a good housewife. My mother and father married in Iran. They had a civil marrieage but I don’t think they were married in a synagoue. They were married at home. This situation reflected on my mother’s relationship with my father in reality. My father was both wealthy and handsome. He had two children, but he was older in years nevetheless, and “knew the value of a woman” according to the mentality of those times.
My mother was a very clean woman, she cooked very well. Her time was spent that way anyways. She had jewelry. When I had measles, she would put that jewelry on me so I would not get up from bed and catch cold. She was obliged to sell all of the jewelry in time. In reality, even though my mother married because of pressure from her family, she demonstrated a very decisive and tough personality in her later years. After my father died, she took my older sister and me and came to Istanbul to prevent the family from dispersing.
My mother was a very clean woman, she cooked very well. Her time was spent that way anyways. She had jewelry. When I had measles, she would put that jewelry on me so I would not get up from bed and catch cold. She was obliged to sell all of the jewelry in time. In reality, even though my mother married because of pressure from her family, she demonstrated a very decisive and tough personality in her later years. After my father died, she took my older sister and me and came to Istanbul to prevent the family from dispersing.
My mother Varda Babakardash was a beautiful woman with a light complexion, medium height and brown eyes, she did not wear make-up but would dye her hair with henna. [Henna is a kind of plant. This plant is mixed with water to make a paste and put on hair. This mixture nourishes the hair and gives it a reddish hue. There is also a tradition of painting hands with henna. This is when young girls put henna on their hands before they are married and their hands become dark red. It is a tradition mostly applied in Anatolia. With this tradition, the family of the girl gathers together before the wedding. Music is played, folkloric dances are performed, local outfits are worn. Even though painting hands with henna is no longer applied today, the tradition of family and friends gathering together the night before the wedding to eat sweets and have musical entertainment still continues. In this way, the tradition of sending off the young girl from her home in a joyous atmosphere and enable her to have pleasant memories is given weight]. She was a woman who dressed well. She had tailors sew her outfits. These outfits were usually dark-colored, long-sleeved and with shoulder paddings. There was no problem for fabrics because my father was in this business, and he always brought the best fabrics. Sometimes foreign sample fabrics were used, sometimes domestic ones. There were people who worked as tailors in the family. They would sew it for my mom.
My mother never went out with her head uncovered. In Adana, they would not look kindly on women with uncovered heads. She wore scarves. She was a very good housewife. Her first husband had died in the war, too but she did not have children. She was very fastidious about her clothing. They had 25 years of age diffence with my father. She was quiet and calm. I would get the impression of a woman who had accepted her fate in my mother.
My mother never went out with her head uncovered. In Adana, they would not look kindly on women with uncovered heads. She wore scarves. She was a very good housewife. Her first husband had died in the war, too but she did not have children. She was very fastidious about her clothing. They had 25 years of age diffence with my father. She was quiet and calm. I would get the impression of a woman who had accepted her fate in my mother.
When my father died, my mother mourned him for a long time. She wore a black turban, and black pantyhose. Since fabric handkerchiefs were used then, she had black bands sewn around white handkerchiefs to show she was in mourning. She would lament after my father “who did you entrust me to, to leave me”. My brothers wore black bands but did not allow us to wear black.
My father would always come home for lunch. He would close up the store and come home with my older brothers. All the men came home for lunch in Adana. Stores would be closed for lunch break. Since distances were not long, the distance between home and work was walking distance. My mother was a very good cook. There were coal stoves in the kitchen. There would be two pots of food every day. We would eat that food for lunch and dinner. Everyone would wait for each other for lunch, we would all gather around the table together and eat our meal. Sometimes we would eat kebap [skewered grilled meat] and “lahmacun” [pronounced as “lahmajoon”, thin, slightly spicy meat pizza] that is famous in Adana. But because the meat had to be kosher, my mother would give me the ground beef she prepared for the lahmacun. I would go to the lahmacun maker, wait for the dough to be stretched, and when the lahmacuns were cooked, bring them home hot. If my father wasn’t going to be able to come home for lunch for whatever reason, he would definitely take food to his store in a thermos.
On Saturdays or Sundays, when my father did not go to work, he would hold my hand and lead me to the park. We would sit on the benches, I would swing on the swingsets.
My father Yasef Babakardash was a radiant faced, saintly person. Medicine had not evolved much then. There were no doctors either. There was the problem of malaria in Adana [a city on the southern coast of Turkey, overlooking the Mediterranean]. Neighbors would come and look for cures for their sons who were feverish. My father would write their names with a pencil or an inkpen somewhere, tie knots on ropes and pray something. And he would put those ropes on the arms of those children like bracelets. The kids would get better and the neighbors would be happy. He had a long thick moustache, he wore fez’s at first, then felt hats. A black suit and tie were never missing. He dealt in dry goods and notions, he was the owner of a large fabric store. My father was very religious. He would not go out to the street in the mornings without donning his tefillin. My father was a very pleasant and honest person. He was a good spouse.
The livelihood of this family who was constantly migrating was earned from different jobs all the time. Selling dry goods and notions and dealing in livestock were the prominent careers.
When I came to Istanbul, I went to her house. She lived in Kuledibi [A neighborhood in Istanbul. The surrounding area of Galata Tower was known as Kuledibi. This area was densely populated by Jews. Even all the merchants around were Jewish. Galata Tower was built by Genoveans. It is one of the important touristic spots of Istanbul today. There are small restaurants in the narrow streets around Galata Tower. The Neve Shalom Synagogue [3] is in this area too]. This was a large house with 5 rooms and a living room. Old-fashioned sofas and mirrors decorated the livingroom. There was a large section they called “hamam” [Turkish bath] in the house too. Laundry would be washed in this section in large pots. Food was kept in wire closets [there would be a closet in a cool part of the house in an era when there were no refrigerators. It was called a wire closet because the door was made of wire]. The house was heated by stove. She prepared a meal made with garbanzo beans called “abushifte”. You added potatoes, meat and onions to this meal.