As soon as the Dolmuş belched its way onto the tiny, steep lane, I
knew it. I knew it by the colorful, historic homes reaching to the sky. I knew
it by the narrowness of the streets. I knew it by the drying clothes strung
high above the street between buildings. But mostly, I knew it by my gut. I
felt it. This place was different. This was Tarlabaşɪ.
 |
| Recycler in Bahcelievler (photo by Oji) |
Let me back up a bit. When I first moved to Bahcelievler, I
noticed what appeared to be a relatively ‘organized’ effort of people diving in
the dumpsters pulling out recyclables. What struck me was that they were all on
foot, pulling large tyvek sacks, approximately 4x4x8, attached to a large dolly all hours of day/night. They are everywhere. I wondered: Is this government sanctioned
recycling? Is this one of the indications of Turkey’s still-developing status?
The collectors are generally men, although I have been seeing more and more
head-scarved women lately. None of them ever make eye-contact with me. Of
course, my wheels start spinning with questions…. Where do they take it all? Who are they? What
are they collecting? Where do they live? Are they part of one big group or do
they work as individuals or families? Are there turf wars?
Then my favorite researcher came to town….. One of my favorite things
about Oji is that he just can’t stand not knowing the answers. I pointed out
these recyclers to him, and by the time I got home from work that night, he was
beside himself with excitement. He had a full report ready for me. It started
with, “We’ve got to go to Tarlabaşɪ.”
It turns out that they are a group of primarily Kurdish people who
make their living pulling recycling. They make the most money from paper. They
typically pull in about 30-40 TL per day, which is the equivalent of about
15-20 USD. They are not government sanctioned. In fact, the municipality views
them as competition and often confiscates their carts and bags. Many of the
recyclers are from the city of Van in Eastern Turkey. After the big earthquake
there last October, recyclers pooled their earnings to send 12 lorries full of blankets,
jackets, hygiene products, and food to the devastated areas (Click here for a link to an article about their efforts).
It was this research on the recyclers of Istanbul that led to Tarlabaşɪ.
From what I can gather, this is where the majority of the recyclers live. It is
an old neighborhood, with the first homes built as early as 1535 for the
non-Muslim diplomats during the Ottoman Empire. It was largely destroyed by
fire in 1870 and was rebuilt with stone to protect from fire danger, as was
common practice during this time (this post-fire transition from wood to stone
also happened in New Orleans around the same time). Tarlabaşɪ is located
between the Golden Horn and the hip, modern, bustling, neighborhood of
Taksim/Beyoglu. At the turn of the 20th
century, this hood was inhabited by non-Muslim lower-middle class Armenian, Greek
and Jewish craftsmen who sold their stuff to the diplomats over on Istiklal
Street. The buildings are 4-story Levantine bow-fronted homes with the ground
floor typically used as commercial or studio space. A series of anti-non-Muslim
laws and events took place in the 20s, 40s and 50s, which caused large portions
of the non-Muslim population to take off. As Istanbul developed out into the
‘Burbs instead of up, as is common in urban development, the Tarlabaşɪ hood was
sort of left in a state of arrested decay.
In the 1990s, Kurdish refugees from the Turk-Kurd civil war came to
Istanbul. Tarlabaşɪ was the only hood they could afford, or in some cases,
squat in. Flash forward to present day and we have the homebase for the
dumpster-diving recyclers.
Enter ‘urban renewal.’ The
government has now decided that Tarlabaşɪ is prime real estate and they have
begun a campaign to ‘renew’ the area. The Kurds have been pushed out of their homes,
some bought out, some forced to leave. The old historic homes are slated to be
demolished. Torn down. Destroyed. And ‘redeveloped’ to something shinier and
prettier. I’ve noticed this practice here in Istanbul. Rather than restore
existing historic structures, there is this push to tear down and rebuild ‘in
the style of’ the former structure. "In the style of....." Kind of like Karaoke…. The melody is
recognizable, but you can’t quite place the artist, and the person singing usually
butchers it. There is little resemblance to the original. In an attempt to pay
tribute, we actually destroy the very thing we are trying to honor. (Click here for a link to the project's Official Website)
This is when the two-years-dormant planner in me kicks in. In the
US, we have distinct definitions and regulations dealing with the semantics of preservation,
reconstruction, restoration, rehabilitation of historic sites. Historic
preservation is guided by The Secretary of the Interior’s Standards and
Guidelines for Historic Preservation.
There are a few different types of treatments allowed for protection
(forgive me for going all planning-nerd on you):
Preservation is defined as the act or process of applying measures
necessary to sustain the existing form, integrity, and materials of
an historic property.
Reconstruction is
defined as the act or process of depicting, by means of new construction, the
form, features, and detailing of a non-surviving site, landscape,
building, structure, or object for the purpose of replicating its appearance at a
specific period of time and in its historic location.
Rehabilitation is
defined as the act or process of making possible a compatible use for a
property through repair, alterations, and additions while
preserving those portions or features which convey its historical, cultural, or
architectural values.
Restoration is defined as the act or process of
accurately depicting the form, features, and character of a property as it
appeared at a particular period of time by means of the removal of features
from other periods in its history and reconstruction of missing features from
the restoration period.
In California, anything more than 50 years old must be assessed
for historic value by a qualified historian, archaeologist, architect, etc.
Now, I’ll be the first to admit that the 50 year threshold is a bit cumbersome.
Does this mean we have to start assessing tract homes from the 1950s for historic value and integrity? Gaudy
1960s suburban shopping malls? There is a grey area there, for sure. But, there
are some periods and styles that are no-brainers. Such as old homes in the Tarlabaşɪ
hood.
Istanbul has chosen to go the ‘reconstruction’ route in Tarlabaşɪ, which, from
what I’ve seen, is one of few remaining architecturally in-tact neighborhoods.
As I mentioned in previous posts, many historic structures have already been
torn down all over the city and replaced with the homogenous apartment cubes. I’ve
seen some examples of other reconstructions here and I haven’t been impressed.
They look über modern and remind me of cheesy, shiny replicas of historic
styles that I used to see in California. It makes my heart hurt to think of
Istanbul going in this direction with their ‘conservation’ strategy. I think
its something they will regret in the long run, once all the buildings with any
character and soul are gone and forgotten. Meanwhile, the demolitions have
begun in Tarlabaşɪ, slowly but surely. Some of the property owners have sued
the government for attempting to force them out of the neighborhood, presumably
using something similar to eminent domain. I hear that these court cases have
slowed, maybe even halted, the demolitions for the time being.
So, where will my recyclers go now that their hood is on the fast
track to gentrification?
Oji and I had a lengthy conversation with a suit-and-tie guy in a
back-alley hole-in-the-wall (literally) nargile café (aka hookah) about this
displacement. Clearly educated and middle-class if not upper-middle class. His
response: the government finds a place for them. The government put them in Tarlabaşɪ
and the government will find a place for them now that they want to redevelop
the hood. He wasn’t concerned at all for their future because, in his mind,
they were taken care of. He spoke of the Muslim tradition to take care of the
less fortunate. Cultural values… “There is no homeless problem in Istanbul.” He
was floored by the homeless problem in America when he visited Los Angeles. He
didn’t understand how we could just let people live outside on the street. It should
be our (ALL of us) duty to take care of them. Listening to him talk, it sounded
like there is less judgment of the poor here than there is in the US. He said this was something that was shifting
now in the younger generation, as people begin to make more money in Turkey. Is
this one of the byproducts of increasing westernization/globalization? As the
gap between rich and poor increases, so does the level of judgment? “Well, if I
can do it, everyone should be able to do it.” But is that really true? Is there
really space in this world for everyone to be ‘rich?’ What if people just want
to be relatively comfortable? Or what if they want to collect recycling for
40TL/day? Who are we to judge that? I’ve watched these people, they are working
their asses off! I'm still in the process of trying to determine whether or not Istanbul actually has a homeless problem or not. its surprisingly difficult to find information on it. So, there either isn't a huge problem, or its ignored at such a level that it has been imagined away.
As I rubber-necked the beautiful Levantine bow-front houses in Tarlabaşɪ
from the Dolmuş in the late afternoon amber light, I felt different. I felt
like I was in an in-tact neighborhood in a way that I hadn’t experienced here
in Istanbul yet. I wanted to jump out of the van and wander the streets in that
moment because I was unsure if it would even be there the next time I came
through. I am indebted to the recyclers and Tarlabaşɪ for providing an
incredible lense through which to view so many of the current issues of an
ever-expanding, ever-Westernizing metropolis.
