Peaches & grapes, the "Reading Woman," and

Tunalı Hilmi Street: an August day in Ankara

When I cut open a peach the other evening, I wasn’t disturbed when a tiny worm hopped out and began to inch across the plate.  August is the prime month for peaches, like May for strawberries and June-into July for cherries, and because they are so good, one is bound to eat them regularly.  This was not my first encounter with wildlife in peaches, or in lettuce, for that matter.  I take the worm as a sign that whatever pesticides are used, they’re not THAT dangerous.

August – and September – are prime months for grapes, too.  On August 15th, important for many Christians  (Orthodox and Catholic, but not Protestant) as the anniversary of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary (her death and ascending body & soul to heaven), local Turkish Christians bring grapes to church for a blessing at the end of the service.  Afterwards, they offer the grapes to all who are present.  This is a cheerful mid-summer harvest ritual and if the service takes place in the middle of a hot day, eating a handful of grapes is wonderfully cooling.

Swan swims in Swan Park

Duly refreshed, I head for Kızılay, the commercial district in central Ankara, to arrange for some digital photos to be printed.  Fırat Color, the photo shop I have been going to for years, has somehow survived the change from traditional film to digital.  Although we are now devoted to our digital cameras, Marie-Henriette and I agree that holding a large, glossy photograph gives a satisfaction that looking at a computer screen cannot match.

Kızılay's "Reading Woman"

On the way to Fırat Color, I stop to greet my favorite lady in Kızılay.  She is not a living person but a bronze statue of a woman, her hair pulled back in a bun, seated, bent over as she intently reads a book.  Turkey is not known as a country of readers (other than newspapers), but I hope this “Reading Woman” (“Okuyan Kadın ”) has inspired some to take up this pleasure.  She is one of a handful of life-sized statues of men and women in ordinary poses in this section of town.  They were put up some time ago, but by whom, I don’t know (can any Ankara readers help?). 

The "Reading Woman" (center)

The “Reading Woman” sits and reads across from the long-established Turhan Bookstore at a pedestrian intersection  favored by leftist groups.  Indeed, a table was set up, posters displayed, and flyers were being handed out. 

In addition, a young man, a hunchback, was holding a sign that read: Kahve + Fal 5 TL (= Turkish coffee + Fortune, 5 liras).  Fortunetelling from the dregs of a cup of Turkish coffee is a skill, or talent, or pastime, that is appreciated,  but this is the first time I have seen this commercialized.  After placing my order at Fırat Color, I head in another direction and soon see the following sign: Şok!  Fal + Kahve 7.5 TL (= Shock price!  Fortune + Turkish coffee 7.5 liras).  Clearly, this is becoming an established line of business, and competitive, too.

After a snack of kaşarlı simit and ayran (a sesame bread circle and melted yellow cheese + a slightly salty but very refreshing yogurt drink), I make my way to my favorite street in Ankara, Tunalı Hilmi Street.  I have been walking on this street for 40 years and love it for its vitality, its constantly changing mix of elegant and tacky.  I should specify  I like only a certain section of Tunalı Hilmi, between Bülten Street and Kuğulu Park (Swan Park).  North of Bülten, the street has always lacked character, I’m not sure why.

Chicken döner on Tunalı Hilmi Street

Located here for ages is Flamingo, a pastry shop with tables for those who wish.  I go in rarely, and anonymously, but Marie-Henriette is greeted rapturously every time she enters.  Other pastry shops, Milka and Meram, have disappeared, but Mado, with ice cream, opened a few years ago near the park.  Pizza Pino, a pizza  restaurant long before chains like Pizza Hut and Domino’s came in, was a long-lasting stalwart until it moved away.  Aslıhan, Marie-Henriette, and I trudged through the snow to eat there one winter in the later 1970s.  Either then or on another occasion I bit down on ground glass – remnants from a defective jar of anchovies, no doubt – to no ill effect other than a certain mistrust and caution on all future visits.

Souvenir favorites

Two of my key sources for birthday and Christmas presents are here: Altın Tuğra, a jewelry store, and the incomparable Çeşni, for traditional ceramics and other handicrafts, with every year new takes on old themes.  The owner, Alper Bey, studied archaeology as an undergraduate, which must have something to do with the high level of creativity. 

For Rent: yes, the Entire Building

Paşabahçe, a big glass store, another important shopping stop, is either remodelling or leaving.  Above it used to be TÖMER, the language school established by Ankara University in 1984, which, incredibly, was the first school where a foreigner could learn Turkish up to an advanced level in a systematic way.  I studied there once, 20 years ago, and found the course excellent. TÖMER has relocated this branch closer to the city center.

Tunalı Hilmi Bey, bedecked

 

Tunalı Hilmi Bey (1871-1928), the man for whom the street is named, is remembered by a statue at the edge of Kuğulu Park.  Hilmi is a traditional man’s name.  “Tuna” is Turkish for the “Danube,” the “-lı” suffix indicating that he, Hilmi, came from that region of the Ottoman Empire – today’s Bulgaria, in fact.  This past June, he (his statue, at least) must have been startled to witness the impassioned anti-government demonstrations that took place in this little park.  Or, having been something of a protester himself – a member of the first parliaments of the Turkish Republic, a promoter of the rights of women, workers, and villagers and the reforming of the Turkish language – he may well have approved. 

Swan Park: Corn on the cob in front of Tunalı Hilmi Bey

 

When I walked through, the park was its usual tranquil self, a few swans swimming in the ponds, people sitting on benches or strolling, enjoying the sunny afternoon.

In front of the Karum shopping center 

I continued uphill beyond the park to my last stop, Karum, a large shopping center in which my eye doctor has his office.  Karum is what the ancient Assyrian traders who settled on the outskirts of central Anatolian cities in the Middle Bronze Age (19th-17th c. BC) called their district, so it’s nice to have this connection between modern shopping and antiquity.  Karum is extremely well located in a well-to-do neighborhood, with a Sheraton, a Hilton, and, incongruously, the Iranian Embassy close by.  One of the first big shopping centers in the city, it eventually faced competition from a host of newcomers – the proliferation of shopping centers has been a feature of the AK Party era – and for a while it looked a bit down at the heels.  Today, though, it’s definitely livelier: more shops open, more people wandering around.  Before I take the elevator up to the doctor’s office to be inspected for new glasses, I go have a cup of tea at the tea stand in one of the side passages.  It’s the last cheap thing I’ll be having for a while.

Vision discombobulated: waiting to see the eye doctor